
Langie^. Lee, 



A Series. ^P S'<»cia( ^ensal'toMS an4 3 










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uass. 
Book. 



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INSIDE SCENES H U 



OF 



Atlanta's Black Week 

A SERIES OF SOCIAL SENSATIONS 
AND A ■• ' 

Carnival of Crimes. 



TERMINATING WITH A 



t Terrible Tale of Tragedies t 
And Tears. 

BY LEE LANQLEY. 



a — ■ — D 

The foote & davies co,, publishers. 



INTRODUCTORY. 



It is a theory in newspaper circles that crime, like stomis, travels in. 
waves. When one terrible event has occurred the newspaper man 
with "nose for news," is on the alert, looking for and expecting some- 
thing else of the same nature, something similar to happen. And 
he is raiely disappointed. It is a strange theory, but its demonstra- 
tion is stranger still. 

There are storms of lesser magnitude, and there are cyclones. 
The distinction is one of degree alone. So with these crime waves. 
There are cyclones — simoons of crime. As the simooms with i ts. 
breath of hell swoops down on the city of the desert, stifling, sufFocfit- 
ing every creature in its path, so did a crime simoom swoop down upon 
the fair city of Atlanta — startling, stilling, suffocating. No words' 
can picture the consternation, the destruction, the desolation it 
brought. 

It was something unique in the history of any city — something un- 
paralleled in the annals of crime. The story of that chain of events, 
rushing in upon each other as they did, is one of deep and ab- 
sorbing interest. It is of interestinot to the seeker after the sensa- 
tional alone; were it only that, there would perhaps belittle reason 
for this volume; but it is more. Here is a study for psychologists. It 
opens a field for discussion, and at thej same time tells a story so 
peculiar, so absoi-bing, so tragical that it all seems beyond the bounds 
of possibility and proves, if proof be necessary, that the facte of this 
life are stranger than any^fiction. 

For months Atlanta, the Queen City of the fair Southland, had been 
at peace, apparently, with all mankind and was reaping the benefits 
of that peace in a bounteous prosperity. The financial storms that 
had struck her less fortunate sisters had left her unscathed. The 
"Atlanta air" of thrift and'enterprise and success was seemingly 
more noticeable than ever. Society was free from scandal and the 
people were happy. Atlanta was the pride of the South. 

And ihe is still, but many and deep have been her tribulations. 



ATLANTA'S BLACK WEEK. 



A black week indeed. As if by one fell blow were financial circles 
paralyzed. Scandal stalked in high places. A young man in whom 
the world had every confidence, fell from the hights, carrying with 
Tiim destruction and death. The storm had struck and Atlanta was 
its center. Desolation utter and deep it left in its path. Crime and 
carnage followed fast and the whole community seemed seized with 
the fatal spell. An indescribable dread weighted down the hearts as 
it must have the heaits of the good in Sodom and Gomorrah of old. 
Mothers clasped their babes to their breats praying mute prayers for 
deliverance from the fate that seemed impending to all. Horror was 
pictured on the faces of strong men — that same picture so familiar 
to those who have gone through an earthquake experience . While 
pervading the entire community was that spirit of reckless bravado 
soldiers feel when facing what seems certain death. 

No word picture can do it justice. So intense was the feeling of 
distrust that the ministers of the city met in special session and re- 
quested the newspapers to stop publication, or if they must appear, to 
to give no details of the different crimes. The prevalence of this 
feeling of distrust cannot be better illustrated than by reproducing 
the following editorial which was the Constitution'' s leader in the Sun- 
day issue which told the story of the week's carnival of crime: 

Within the past week, Atlanta has been aflBicted with calamities 
heretofore unknown in her history. 

We do not propose to shock our readers by going into details, nor 
by giving a list of the horrors rushing upon us from day to day, pil- 
ing climax upon climax, until tongue and pen have found it impos- 
sible to keep pace with the swift tide of events. 

Taine says that even a nation may have a period of insanity, and 
it is very generally believed that epidemics of madness have occas- 
ionally swept whole communities. And why not? If insanity may 
seize an antire family, why not temporarily a group of families, a 
town, a country? 



4 ATLANTA S BLACK WKEK. 

The incidents of the past few days give color and substance to- 
these reflections, but our people must not give way to tlie excite- 
ment and glQom so natural under the circumstances. The myste- 
rious ways of Providence sometimes bring grief to all of us, but in 
the end they will bo vindicated by final results, and men will see that 
an All- Wise Father has scourged them lovingly and for their good. 
In this Christian city of law and order, filled with noble charities- 
and kind hearts we cannot believe that there will be an epidemic 
either of insanity or crime. There is no cause for it. Our people are 
sympathetic, and full of brotherly love. "Man's inhumanity to man" 
is a meaningless phrase here. We have no sharp contrasts of plu- 
tocracy and poverty to make people desperate, and there is no fever- 
ish excitement in our social life powerful enough to make men and 
women lose their heads. The incidents of the past week are except- 
ional, and doubtless they will be followed by a long period of peace- 
ful and monotonous quiet. 

We hope so. But the men of God and the worshipers who con- 
gregate today in our more than seventy churches should utilize to 
the utmost the calming and soothing influences of the holy Sab- 
bath. Good and thoughtful people will find it in their power this- 
morning to start a i;urrent of sentiment through the community that 
will carry balm to many a wounded heart and peace to many a 
troubled mind. This current of Cliristian sentiment starting from 
the family altar, from the pulpit, and from every good man with 
the grace of God in his heart, can restore quiet and haj^piness in this 
season of sorrow. ' 

And now let us one and all, yield to the spirit of this holy day,, 
and may the peace of God be with us all. 

That was the feeling, and the incidents that served to bring the 
people up to that high pitch were sensational in the extreme. Be- 
ginning with several uni(iue and peculiar crimes that served as a 
prelude, there followed this particular week into which the sensa- 
tions, the experiences of a lifetime were crowded. 

The defalcation of Lewis Redwine which caused the Gate City 
National Bank to close its doors, and came near bringing the city into 
a financial panic. 

The suicide of Tom Cobb Jackson — an event terrible in itself, 
more terrible in all it i>ortends. 

Then the capture of Redwine followed on the heels of the suicide, 
and 

Then, as if to bring it all to a climax, the horrible bouble uxorcido 
of Miss Julia Force. 
And now to tell the story of it all. 



Atlanta's black week. 
CHAPTER. ONE. 



Being the Story of the First Double Tragedy of the 

Series. 



First in the catalogue of the past series of crimes comes the at- 
tempted double suicide, or suicide and mnrder, of Umbei'ta Pian- 
tini and Selita Muegge, his beautiful young step-sister, in the Met- 
ropolitan hotel, on January the 28th. The story is as thrilling and 
sensational as its sequal was sad. The powers of passion have never 
been greater, the longings of love more insatiable, and self-destruc- 
tion, more deliberate than in this case. So ii'resistibly enthralled 
with the influences of his mad love, yielding to the fiery passions 
imputed to the Italian nature, Piantini forgot or disregarded the mar- 
ital vows and all ties, and followed with unfaltering step his insane 
love for his pretty German step-sister to his death ; and he found in 
her a full response and willing companion. 

Insane with tlie passion of love, and afire with the flames of de- 
pravity, these two erring souls, within the sacred sanctity of a family 
circle, bound by the strongest ties of human flesh and blood, 
violated every principle of virtue and honor, and cast an everlasting 
stigma on a pure name. If such crimes are possible, surrounded by 
mother, father, wife, children and sisters, in the heart of a city famed 
the country over for its morality, Christianity and culture, no one 
could be seriously censured did they deny the virtue of civilization. 
Keaders, when such is the story that forms the opening chajiter of 
this book of crimes, need you marvel at what follows ? 

When the intimacy of Piantini and Miss Muegge, his step-sister, 
had reached that stage that secrecy could no longer be maintained, 
with a coolness as remarkable and incompei-able as had marked 
the other features of their crime, they deliberately planned to end it 
all with death, and to this end the appointment was made on the fa- 



6 atlajsta's bi^ck week. 

tal evsning to meet at what soon subsequently became the scene of 
death. What followed is easily told. They took room 29, to which 
they at once retired. No one knows what passed from that time till 
the fatal shots were heard. 

What followed is soon told. 

With his arms about the woman he loved, and her soft, round arms 
encircling his neck in sweet embrace, Umborto Piantini kissed Selita 
Muegge goodby, put a bullet into her head and sent another crashing 
into his own brain. 

Their warm life blood commingled. Their hearts beat together. 
A crimson torrent gushed from each of the wounds. Into their 
dazed senses then crept the idea that they were dying together, and 
instinctively the last embrace tightened. 

Divided in life by barriers that no human power could destroy, 
tliey had sought the union in death for which their loving hearts 
longed. 

The guilty couple crept away from the home where both lived, but 
■where circumstances forbade them even exchanging a tender, loving 
glance. 

Going to the hotel, they registered as man and wife. Forgotten 
Tvas the wife at home; forgotten was the old mother and father; for- 
gotten for the time was all the world beside. 

Beyond the death they sought they saw a union to which all earthly 
obstacles would be removed. 

No goodby was said. Just a minute and they would be insepara- 
l)ly united. For a moment they looked into each other's eyes, then 
with a firm hand, Piantini pressed an ugly bulldog revolver to Selita 
Muegge's temple. She did not liinch as the steel touched her warm 
flesh. 

Cooler than they had ever been in all their lives before, they faced 
each other in that dreadful moment. The finger touching the trig- 
ger barely moved. 

There was a sharp, quick report. The young woman fell back, but 
lier lover still dung to her, holding her in his arms. With the swift- 



ATLANTA S BLACK WEEK. 7 

ness of lightning, he turned the muzzle of the revolver to his own 
head. Another loud report, and the two lovers sank speechless, 
side by side. 

Streams of blood flooded the snow white linen . Not a groan or a 
sigh escaped the couple. Lying in their own commingled blood, the 
sound of the revolver still echoing in their ears, the two were dis- 
covered three minutss after the shooting. 

The youth and beauty of the two compelled the sympathy of alL 
The flush of health tinted the fresh young cheeks of both. Piantini, 
a handsome Italian, with jet-black hair and mustache, is just twenty- 
four years old, and has a strikingly handsome face. The young 
woman is step-sister to Piantini. Piantini is the son of F. Piantini,, 
the wood carver. The elder lives at 400 Pryor street, where he has 
an elegant home. A few years ago, he married a second time, and 
Selita Muegge's mother was the bride. They lived in New Jersey at 
the time, but came here to live. Umberto Piantini married six years: 
ago. 

At the home of Piantini. a contented father and mother, a fond 
wife, and two fond sisters were sitting by a glowing fire in a happy 
home when the awful news reached them. 

Prostrated at the fearful shock, not one of them was able to go to- 
the bedside of the perhaps dying lovers. The grief of the forgotten 
and negletced wife was distressing beyond all comparison. 

About half-past three o'clodk, Piantini and Miss Muegge walked 
into the office of the hotel and went directly to the register. They 
came in from the entrance on Pryor street, next to the railroad. It 
was the time for the Central road train, and Mr. Keith supposed the 
couple had reached the city on that train. 

"I want a room for myself and wife until to-morrow morning at 7 
o'clock," said he. "We wish to leave on the 7 o'clock train." 

He picked up the pen and wrote in a slanting, but firm hand, "Um- 
berto Piantini and wife." They said they were not particular about 
the room being very elegant. Mr. Keith assigned them to room 29 
on the third floor. The room is on the Pryor street side of the hotel, 
and is rather plainly furnished. There are two beds in the room. 



Atlanta's black week. 



THE TWO SHOTS. 



At a quarter to six o'clock, two ringing reports were heard on the 
upper floor in the direction of the room occupied by the couple. The 
sharp reports were heard in every part of the house and a half dozen 
negroes went running up the stairway. 

All was still. Not a sound disturbed the quiet on the floor. The 
negroes were frightened, and ran as hurridly down the stairway as 
they had ascended it. 

One of them ran like the wind to the police station a block below. 
All was excitement at the hotel. No one knew the significance of 
the two pistol shots. At the police station Callman Beavers waited 
but an instant to hear the story of the excited negro and started out 
for the hotel. A half block away he overtook Patrolman Jordan, and 
the two oflBlcers went together to the hotel office. 

Mr. Charlie Keith, who had just entered the office a minute ahead 
of the policemen, went with the officers to the room. 

The crowd followed, all a-tremble with excitement and curiosity. 
The deathly stillness was puzzling. No one knew what to make 
of it. 

"Be careful," said Mr. Keith; "you may get shot." 

The door of room 29 was slightly ajar. Patrolman Beavers cau- 
tiously approached the door and peeped in. To the right and to the 
left was a bed. 

At first, the officer saw nothing. Glancing about the room for an 
nstant, he suddenly recoiled with a cry of horror. 

A horrible, frightful, sickening sight met his eyes. 

Lying on the bed to the left of the door, locked in each other's 
arms, their heads lying in a pool of blood and upon a blood-stained 
pillow, their faces reposeful and calm in expression, were a beautiful 
young woman and a handsome man. 

A smoking bulldog revolver lay on the floor beside the bed. 

Patrolmen Beavers and Jordan and Mr. Keith entered the room 
without a word. Instinctively they surveyed the room with thei 
yesjas they entered. The thought of an assassin lurking behind 



Atlanta's black week. 9 

the doorway waiting to escape presented itself instantly to their 
minds. The room was empty save for the presence of the pair locked 
in each other's embrace. 

The men tvirned to the bloody scene on the bed. The two figures 
were as still as if already dead. They made no move and were ap- 
parently suffering no pain. 

Beavers bent over the man and shook him by the arm. The man 
turned his blood-bespattered and frightful looking face toward the 
officer. He was conscious. The officer a#ked his name. 

He pointed a bloody finger at the table. 

"Is she your wife ?" Beavers asked. 

He shook his head feebly and a fresh torrent of blood rushed f i-om 
his ear. 

He closed his eyes and made no further sign. 

The woman was unconscious, and ai)peared as peaceful and stil 
as if sleeping. 

Her magnificently beautiful face was horribly beautiful still in its 
crimson setting of blood. Her soft, drooping eyelids covered her 
sweet, languorous eyes. The tender purity of the face was beauti- 
ful to see. It was an ideally pretty face, the soft, sublime expres- 
sion of a woman who had done no wrong resting like a smile upon 
it. There was not a suggestion of pain in it, nor a suggestion of sin 
or wrong. 

The sight the couple presented was enough to make the strongest 
heart turn sick. Men long accustomed to sights of blood and suffer- 
ing turned shudderingly away from the bedside. Chief Connolly 
turned away his head. 

"For eighteen years I have been used to horrible sights," said he, 
"but I have never seen anything like that." 

Men who saw the bloody sight turned away and fell fainting. 
More than one man had to be led from the room. 

THE LETTERS THEY LEFT BEHIND. 

While the physicians were busying themselves attending the 



10 Atlanta's black week. 

wounded pair, the officers were solving the mystery surrounding the 
ahooting. When asked his name, Piantini pointed to the table in the 
center of the room. On the table were found two letters. On top 
of them was a sheet of paper bearing the words, in a big, bold hand: 
"Deliver these letters to our parents." 

The first letter was directed to F. Piantini, father of the young man. 
It was sealed. It read: 

January 24, 1893. — In this moment that we write we are happy. In 
an hour and a half we will be dead; we will be no more in the 
land of the living. We believe that we will be united after ^eath, 
as we are now united in life. 

Please bury us in the same coffin — this is our last request. Bury 
us in Oakland cemetery and plant ivy on our graves. i 

Selita and Umbkrto, 

The other letter was addressed to Piantini" s mother-in-law, and 
"written in Italian. It was translated by a friend of Piantini, as fol- 
lows: 

Accept my last regards, for one hour from now I will be dead. It 
seems to me that it was wrong for me to take $2 a day. 

My Dear Aunt, it has almost run me crazy, after I had pawned my 
jewelry, I didn't have enough. One kiss from my heai-t, and goodby. 

Umberto. 
the news at piantini' s home. 

The doctors busied themselves probing for the balls in the heads 
of the woimded pair. While they were engaged in this. Patrolman 
Beavers went to the home of Piantini's father and Miss Muegge's 
mother, at 400 South Pryor street. The scene there, when the news 
was broken to the parents, was indescribable. The mother fell in 
her husband's arms, and the pretty young sisters of the wounded 
girl wept hysterically. 

Miss Muegge was carried to her home, 400 South Pryor Street. 
She begged piteously not to be carried home as she was being placed 
in the ambulance, but her cries were of no avail. She declared that 
her mother must not know. 



Atlanta's black werk. 11 

Although they had been notified immediately after the shooting, 
not one of the relatives of the pair went near the scene of the killing. 
They waited at home until the city ambulance bore home the form 
of pretty Selita Muegge. 

A few hours before she had left home to come up town shopping. 
At that time her face bore no shadow of the impending catastrophe. 
She appeared as light-hearted and happy as she always appeared. 
Somewhere up town she met Piantiui by appointment, and had gone 
with him to her doom. 

Her reception at home last night may be imagined, never described. 
No pen can paint the picture in all its living colors. Tears and re- 
monstrances were of no avail. Mute and silent, rendered dumb by 
the very awfulness of the affair, they watched the writhing form of 
he light of that household brought in and laid upon her couch. 
Her groans sounded where her laughter had so lately been. There 
stood the awakened wife of the man who had done this awful thing. 
Just now she had opened her eyes to the truth, and who 
knows a bitterer feeling than that which comes to a woman who 
learns that the man she loves has died for another? 

DIED FOK LOVE. 

Next in succession to be seized with the fatal fever, was W. D. 
Cowley, a well khown commercial traveller for Marrsh, Smith & 
Marsh. 

The cause assigned for his rash self-destruction was lost love. 
The story goes that he was madly infatuated with a leading society 
belle of Marietta, who had for some reason refused to marry him 
He'committed suicide by shooting himself the day following Cobb 
Jackson's death. All day Crowley circulated among his friends, 
and expreseed in excited and enthusiastic terms his admiraeion of 
Cobb Jackson, and declared just before the deed was committed that 
he had just left Lewis Red wine, and that if ever he saw him again 
he was going to advise him to follow Cobbs example that it was a 
brave, manly and sure way of ending all earthly troubles. While 



12 Atlanta's black week. 

discussing the matter several times during the day Crowley dis- 
played a package containing a revolver and would remark, "this is 
the little package that will do the bloody work." 

Had the town been less exited, those who heard Crowleys state- 
ment have recognized the symptoms of the raging contagion and 
taken steps to confine the desperate man till his mind should re- 
turn to its normal condition. Late in the afternoon, Crowley went 
to his room, took his revolver and with the coolness and delibera- 
tion of one whose mind had been relieved of earthly fears and 
dreads he fired the shot thae carried his soul from earth to his God 
for final account. His father lives at lloswell, Ga., and is one of 
the most influential and wealthiest men in the State. Crowleys 
body was carried to Roswell for interment the following day. 

Another Mysterious Suicide. 



Shortly after the Metropolitan double tragedy with the sensation 
and scandal, had ceased to be relished morsels of gossip, and for no 
other apparent reason than that he had become effected with the 
epidemic of self destruction then prevalent iu Atlanta, young Aaron 
Eaphael, a comme.tcial tiaveler from Boston, took his own life in 
his room at the Kimball house. 

He cooly laid aside a novel which he had been reading and with 
every evidence of perfect sanity and self possession fii'ed the shot 
that within a few hours ended his life. There was never a deatk 
more completely shxouded in mystery. His i-elatives who came 
from Boh^ton to get his body, declared that they could see no man- 
ner of aocount for the crime. He was in no trouble and had not 
been, but was prosperous, temperate and seemingly happy. 




LEWIS KEDWINE. 



Atlanta's black week. 15 

CHAPTER TWO. 



History of Lewis Redwinc's Fall from Grace, and the 
Discovery of the Defalcation. 



"Defaulted and Gone." 

That was the headline in the morning's paper of February the 22d 
that proved the warning bolt that thundered forth to herald a terri- 
ble cyclone of crime in the city of Atlanta. But the crime itself 
sank into utter insignificance, and was forgotten as the thousands of 
readers followed the story to the name of the man against whom it 
was alleged. 

Lewis Redwine, the Assistant Cashier of the Gate City National 
Bank, a defaulter and a fugitive from justice ! 

To all those familiar with the financial and social history of At- 
lanta, it seemed impossible. They could hardly believe their own 
eyes. "Lewis Redwine defaulted and gone !" .vt this stage of the 
story the reader paused and repeated the name and crime again and 
again as his memory carried him back instinctively to the many 
brilliant social events, then to the many conferences of the city's 
prominent financiers, in which this young man had been a conspicu- 
ous figure, and stood out head and shoulders above any young man 
of his age in the State. Lewis Redwine, the toast of society, the 
boast of financiers and the beau of beaux — an embezzler and a 
fugitive ! 

And in these reflections there was no exaggeration of the young 
man's true position. Redwine had steadily ascended the social scale 
until he had reached its topmost pinnacle, and stood, as somebody 
has aptly described it, "Monarch of all he surveyed in the dazzling 
domain of Swelldom." He had gone from a penniless bookkeeper 
to an official in one of the most influential banking institutions in 
the South, and by virtue of his long service, perfect integrity and 



l6 Atlanta's black week. 

marked ability, he was practically second (^nly to the president and 
head of the institution. This position was not purchased with 
money; it was not held by virtue of stock in the bank, controlled by 
family and friends, nor tlirough any outside influence, but was the 
price of honor, tlie fruit of long and faithful service, the reward of 
genuine merit. , 

Fifteen years before, Kedwine, a penniless stripling, had come from 
Coweta county to take a place at the foot of the ladder in the Gate 
City National Baiik. Year after year from that time he had grown 
steadily in the esteem and confidence of the bank's controlling offi- 
cials, and had been promoted until, thirteen months ago, he was^ 
made assistant cashier and practically given control of the money of 
this staunch institution. He was envied by young men, courted by 
society's most select circle, and was pointed to with pride by the 
staid and conservative money kings tliat preside over the financial 
interests of the South' s greatest city. He was a shining light in the 
Capital (. ity Club, the most aristocratic social organization in the Gulf 
States. That stamped him as a "swell." But his success had not, ap- 
parently, turned his head. He was quiet and unostentatious, dressed 
in the height of fashion, but at all times modestly, and was as affa- 
ble to the man who wore overalls as to the president of the bank. 
"If ever there was a true gentleman, Lewis Redwiue is one," his 
friends all said, and everybody who knew him endorsed the senti- 
ment. 

Lewis Ledwiue a defaulter! 

"Surely there must be some mistake," everybody said. And yet 
he stands to-day charged with the wreck of one of the foremost 
banking institutions of the South, and responsible — the Lord only 
knows for how much of the ruin and desolation that has followed 

his act. 

The story of the defalcation and its discovery, as well as the dis- 
appearance of Kedwine, was an interesting one, and so strange in 
its details as to give rise to many rumors and stories more or less 
derogatory to the bank and its official heads, all of which were 
probably uncalled for and unwarranted. The newspaper accounts- 



Atlanta's black week. 17 

were preceded by a card signed by L. J, Hill, President; A. W. Hill, 
Vice-President; and E. S. McCandless, Cashier of the Bank, saying: 

"We are sorry to have to announce that Lewis Redwine, Assistant 
Cashier of our Bank, is a defaulter." 

They went on to say that a large amount of the bank's funds had 
disappeared, but although the exact atoount of the shortage was not 
known, it was not great enough to impair the bank's capital and 
interfere with its business. 

Following this was a graphic account of the details of the affair. 

President Lod Hill had just returned from Mexico, where he had 
been some days. While he was away the bank examiner had visited 
the bank and had reported the cash all right, and the favorable report 
which he found on his return was highly gratifying. But of course 
he had known it was all right, for hadn't Lewis been there to look 
after the cash? 

This count had been made an Saturday. On Monday, President 
Hill returned to the city. In a casual talk with a fellow banker 
who had stopped him to say "howdy" after his absence, the Presi- 
dent of the Gate City got an inkling of some right extensive check- 
ing which his bank had done on Saturday, 

"Oh! that's all right," he said. "I suppose Lewis needed the 
ready cash for some of the bank's customers." 

But somehow Mr. Hill couldn't forget the remark that had been 
made to him. For some reason — he couldn't possibly tell why— it 
worried him. And he determined to ask Redwiue about it the very 
next day. The amount had been given him as $2.5.000, and he really 
couldn't see how so much was necessary. 

Just before closing hour on Tuesday, President Hill walked up to 
Redwine' s desk and said: 

"Lewis, come into my of36ice a minute; I want to see you," 

"All right, Mr. Hill; just a minute. I'll be there as soon as I 
make these entries." 

The president turned and walked into his oflce at the rear of the 
bank. As he did so, Redwine, as he had done a thousand times 
before, stepped around the railing at the front of the bank. He had 



18 Atlanta's black week. 

on his office coat and was hatless. Nobody noticed him particularly. 
He walked slowly and unconcernedly to a saloon below the bank, 
called for a whiskey straight, filled the glass and drank it at a swal- 
low. 

As he did so, he looked up and saw Welbron Hill, Vice-P-esident 
of the bank, and a deputy-sheriff confronting him. 

"Have something, Lewis?" 

"No, thank you; I've just had a drink." 

"Welborn Hill took his drink and stepped out on the sidewalk. 
His brother had told him to keep an eye on Redwine, so he took a 
.stand where he could, as he thought, command a view of all exits. 
There he waited. 

As he went out, Redwine asked the bartender to lend him a hat, 
put it on and 



Atlanta's black week. 18 

CHAPTER THREE. 



Disappeared. 



Disappeared as literally and completely as if the earth had opened 
and swallowed him up. 

Welborn Hill got tired waiting, then went back to the saloon. 
Redwine wasm't there. He stepped quickly into the bank— no Red- 
wine. Then he moved quicker than ever. The police headquarters 
is just at the rear of the Gate City bank building, and in a minute 
he was closeted with Chief Connolly. 

"Catch Redwine!" was his request. 

"Do you make a charge against him ? " 

"No, but we don't want him to get away." 

Chief Wright and his detective force began work at once, but no 
trace of the absconding cashier could be found. 

The story created the most intense excitement when The Consti- 
tution gave the full details the next morning. Of course, everybody 
had a theory — some of them being perfectly positive that Redwine 
was and had always been blacker than it was possible to paint 
him, and others being equally as positive — yes, more so — that there 
must be some gigantic mistake, and that it would yet be proven that 
Redwine was absolutely innocent. 

W eird indeed were some of these stories. A popular tale with the 
theorists of the first class was that Redwine had, a few days before, 
had a tailor on a little obscure street make him a money belt. Ar- 
guing on these premises, they knew that the cashier had laid all his 
plans to disappear on Wednesday, that being a legal holiday, 
and that he had taken a vast amount of the bank's money with him. 
The belt story was run down and shattered, but that didn't weaken 
those theorists who had been talking of the vast amount of boodle 



•20 , Atlanta's black week. 

they were certain RedAvine had taken. All sorts of stories of his ex- 
travagance began to come to light, and it seem as if th« pessimistic 
theorists liad decidedly the best of the argument. 

But this didn't faze those who looked on the bi'ighter side — who 
couldn't believe that lledwine was a thief. An overwhelming bulk 
of evidence was against them, but what did that matter? They 
knew Redwine, they couldn't believe it. All sorts of theories were 
advanced to show that Redwine was more sinned against than sin- 
ning. These stories involved the bank and its officials, and involved 
people outside the bank — all apparently without reason. Suspicion 
was directed against prominent young men and simply because they 
were known to be friends of IJedwine; and there was no otlier reason 
in the wox'ld for connecting their names with the affair. The stories 
about tlie bank recalled former times of trial in the bank's history — 
times when money was lost tlirough loans, I believe. And one of 
these stories went so far as to hint, if not to state positively, that 
the Gate City was embarrased, and that Redwine had not stolen a 
cent, but was permitting himself to be used as tool to tide matters 
over for a few days until the bank's affairs could be straightened ont; 
that the true status of the bank would soon become known and then 
the alleged defaulter would return, pose as a martyr, who to save his 
-employers had assumed the role of a thief and a fugitive from justice. 
The absolute impossibility of such a state of affairs makes a serious 
treatment of such rumors absolutely unnecessary. To dignify tliem 
is to waste time. 

The officials of the bank were credited with the statement tluxt 
Redwine had been stealing money for many months and making false 
entries to cover his shortage; liere in the same breath the statement 
was imputed to the same source, that it was impossible for him to 
liave stolen any money l)efore he had been appointed to his present 
position of trust, which position he had only held thix'teen montlis. 
Of course these were only rumors, but they were as active as spar- 
rows and found willing auditors and ready believers wherever they 
reached. The very atmosjihere seemed impregnated with such 
rumors, and the excitement was soon intense beyond description. 



ATLANTAS BLACK WEEK. 21 

Society had received its shock, by the alleged theft and disappear- 
ance of one of its favorite disciples; financiers were nervous -over 
the prospects of the bank, and the effect in business and money cir- 
cles ; stockholders of thie institution vmder question were down- 
hearted and depositors were wild with anxiety about their hard 
earned shekels. 

Local newspaper men were in clover. Everything they could find 
about the case was printed and found eager readers. "Extras" were 
cried by newsboys on all sides. 

News was carried from one end of the country to the otlier on the 
wires. It meant a harvest for the special correspondents, and they 
were writing it for all they were worth. The arrest of half a dozen 
suspects in different parts of the South only adds fuel to the fire. 
Here, the newspaper boys thought, was a genuine ten days' wonder. 
Papers everywhere would be eager for all they could get of the story 
for a week to come; the home papers would be full of nothing else. 

Little did they think that this was but the preface — the introduc- 
tox'y chapter, at best — of a series of sensations probably unparalleled 
in the history of any city in times of peace. 

The latest about Redwine ! Everybody wanted to know what it 
was. Wednesday the seao^-ch was kept up, while the bank officials 
were hard at work trying to make order out of chaos. Late that 
night they sent a note to the Constitution office. It was a short note, 
but it meant a great deal. 

The bank would not open next day. 

That was the latest then, and it was a great surprise. The clear- 
ing house officials had made a thorough examination and said that 
there was no reasonable doubt of the depositors getting all their 
money. 

But the bank would not open. That" meant that the defalcation 
vfas much heavier that was at first announced, $65,000. It meant, 
too, that business might be crippled and that trouble? might come. 

Thursday the whole city was in a fever of excitement. The bank 
examiner had been wired for, and the doors bore a placard announc- 



22 Atlanta's black week. 

ing that fact. Hundreds of depositors were standing around the 
the bank corner. Then a meeting wa« called at the court house, and 
prominent bankers assured the depositors that their money was all 
right. All of this, however, only accentuated the interest. 

And still nothing nothing of Rcdwine. 

Night came. The interest was unabated. As business men closed 
their places of business to go to their homes, they stopped and talked 
about the one topic of the hour. About the hotels there were many 
discussions and some tights. 

Seven o'clock. — "Any news of Redwine ?" Telephones at the po- 
lice station and in the newspaper offices were kept at a white heat 
repeating the question. 

Eight o'clock. — "Any news of Redwine ?" Still a negative. 

Nine o'clock. — "What's the latest about Redwine ?" Nothing. 

Nine o'clock and ten minutes. — "Nothing new about " 

No! No! Not a word about Redwine. But Cobb Jackson 



Atlanta's black week. 23 

CHAPTER FOUR. 



Being the Story of the Tragic Suicide of Thomas 
Cobb Jackson. 



" No, not that ! It cannot be! Anything but that I" 

The message that the telephone had given back was — 

" Cobb Jackson has shot himself !" 

The first feeling of this young man's friends when told that he had 
attempted — perhaps committed — self-murder, was one like the numb- 
ness that follows a stunning blow. Then came the conviction — posi- 
tive, absolute — that there was some horrible mistake. Nobody who 
knew Cobb Jackson would have been much surprised had the mes- 
sage been that he had in a fit of anger or in a quarrel shot somebody; 
and those who had seen him that day and heard him talk would have 
been even less surprised had the message been that somebody else had 
shot him. But that he, COBB JACKSON, had sMtcitZed— IMPOSSI- 
BLE! 

To understand the feelings of these Doubting Thomases, a knowl- 
edge of the life and career of this young man is necessary. With 
such knowledge, you will perhaps think as they did — impossible ! 

To be a member of an old family, famed for intellect, chivalry, 
bravery, eminence in all walks of life is much — but it isn't every- 
thing, for scions of just such families have run to seed; to have so- 
cial position, to have reached a position at one's chosen profession 
that makes one the envy of one's fellows, to have married a woman 
beautiful and brilliant, and lovely in all the term means — any of 
these ought to make a man supremely happy. 

Yet Cobb Jackson had them all. He had his faults, what man has 
none ? But if one man had occasion to be happy, so far as the 
world could tell, that man was Cobb Jackson. Then why did he? 



24 Atlanta's black werk. 

you are askiiijj. Aye, there's the rub, as Hamlet says: WHY! 

There is no more aristocratic family in the South than the Jack- 
sons of Georgia. At the head of the family, stands General Henry 
K. Jackson, of Savannah, a gallant general who served with great 
distinction in the civil war, who was the friend and confidnate of 
those other great soldiers whos » names are indissolubly connected 
with the Sixties; a man who has always been eminent, who has held 
many positions of honor, notably the position of Minister to Mexico 
under the first Cleveland administration; a man of great wealth and 
prestige. His eldest son is Captain Harry R. Jackson, of Atlanta, a 
type of the true Southern gem lemau, if there ever was one; a charm- 
ing, brilliant, brainy man; one of the most eminent lawyers in the 
South, especially prominent as a corporation lawyer, and the repre- 
sentative of the great Riclunoud and Danville system; a man of 
wealth, whose home is the ideal home of the wealthy Southerner, 
wliere liospitality finds it true interpi'etation. Presiding over that 
liome is a lady whose graces are proverbial, a brilliant, beautiful, wom- 
anly woman, iJrs. Jackson is a daugliter of the South' s great leader. 
General Tlios. R. R. Cobb, whose name, like that of his brother, 
H(»well Cobb, is a household word not only in Georgia, but tlirough 
the entire South. 

The son of these two — their eldest child — Cobb Jackson was given 
everything that heart could desire. He was given a splendid educa- 
tion, and when he had been admitted to the bar, was taken into part- 
nershi)) by his father, the firm being Jackson and Jackson. Father 
and son were like chums. If ever a father was proud of his boy, 
this favher was. 

A little more than a year ago, Cobb Jackson led to the matrimo- 
nial altar one of tlu) greatest belles Southern society has known — Miss 
Sarah Francis (irant, the daughter of Captain VV. D. Grant, Atlanta's 
richest man. The marriage was a great event. No two j'oung peo- 
ple could liave, api)areutly, started upon life's journey juudor more 
favorable auspices. 




THOMAS COBB JACKSON. 



Atlanta's black week, 27 

And yet, in one short year, this man kills himself. Why was it? 

Everybody asked the question, 

God alone knows. The secret of the thoughts that were in that 
young man's mind when he put a bullet in his brain, was buried with 
him 'neath the willows in the beautiful city of the dead, where he 
lies sleeping his long sleep. But everybody has a theory, a thousand 
different stories were told, as many more are being talked of to-day. 

Was he mixed up in the Redwine defalcation, and if so, how? 

It was natural that the question should be asked. The great 
friendship existing between the two men, the suicide coming rio^ht 
on the heels of the Redwine flight — all the attending circumstances 
seemed to warrant the assumption that the two events were correla- 
tive — 'that the one was the direct result of the other. 

The developments of the days that followed, when history was 
being made for Atlanta faster than ever before, so fast as to literally 
take the breath away, these developments showed that the tribe of 
prophets was not extinct. They showed the C(«nnection — 

But I'm ahead of my story. First let me tell the 

, STORY OF THE SUICIDE. 

The story of the tragedy is soon told, and that night about 6 : 30 
o'clock, Captain Harry Jackson went to his office in the Kiser build 
ing. He found his son lying on the sofa very gloomy in spirits. 
Young Jackson said nothing and seemed in no mood to talk. 

Captain Jackson busied himself with some work about the office 
and paid little attention to his son. It is claimed thatbutfew words 
passed between father and son in the interval of two hours during 
which they remained together in their office. 

About 8:30 o'clock, Captain Jackson finished the work which occu- 
pied his attention and arousing his son, got him to get up and prepare 
to go home. The negro janitor telephoned for a hack and when it 
arrived Captain Jackson and Cobb left their office and stepped into 
the hack in front of tho Pryor street entrance to the Ki3«r building. 

Captain Jackson directed the hackman to drive to his home on 



28 Atlanta's black week. 

Capitol square on the block south of the State Capitol. It was a 
drive of but three blocks and was accomplished in a very short time. 
Not a word passed between the two daring the trip. Captain Jack- 
son was seated on the right side of the hack and during the ride 
liomeward he sat in silent meditation. On the left side sat Cobb, 
strangely taciturn and quiet. He seemed deep in thought. 

In front of Captain Jackson's door the hack stopped and the 
driver alighted and opened the door of the vehicle. Captain Jack- 
son was on the next to the sidewalk and next to the house and he 
stepped out. 

After reaching the sidewalk Captain Jackson did not stop, but 
started on a brisk walk for the gate. lie took, perhaps, three steps 
when a strange noise attracted his attention. He wheeled about ast 
the sound reached him. He could not explain it. To him it sounded 
like a muffled explosion. 

As Captain Jackson turned he noticed that his son had not yet 
arisen from his seat in the hack. 

With a single step he was beside the open door of the hack. What 
he saw lie can never forget. 

Crouched in one corner of the hack, his head dropping on his 
breast, his hat lying at his feet, a smoking revolver in his right hand 
was Tom Cobb Jackson. The odor of powder smoke pervaded the 
interior of the vehicle. The sound of the young man's labored 
breathing was all that broke the stillness. 

An electric light on the corner outlined but imperfectly the tragic 
scene. By its glare Captain Jackson saw the thrilling picture. 

In the one instant that he stood by the open door looking in upon 
the croaching figure of liis son^ Captain Jackson saw a spot of crim- 
son blood appear upon the young man's right temple. As he looked, 
it grew into a stream, which found its way down the young man's 
cheek, dying his face a deep crimson. 

A moment after Captain Jackson reached his sou's side a United, 
States soldier walked by, and, attracted by the noise, he stopped. 
The captain applied to him for assistance, and together the two men 
ifted the young Mr. Jackson from the vehicle. 



Atlanta's black week 29 

A s they dragged his body from the hack to the sidewalk they no- 
ticed that it hung heavily in their grasp, and dropped limp and inert. 
Bodily they carried the young man through the gate, up the sidewalk 
■end into the house. 

Captain Jackson did not lose his presence of mind or self-control, 
and his first thought was for the safety of his son. 

He placed the body upon a bed and dispatched a servant for Dr. 
Baird, who resides two doors from his home. He then turned his 
attention to the dying man. 

Around the bedside the young wife and other members of the 
family had gathered and stood waiting for something — death, the 
arrival of the physician, the recovery of consciousness — something. 

Captain Jackson bent over the still form. The chest no longer re- 
sponded to the coming and going of the breath. The face was quite 
till, the features composed. The heart had ceased to beast. Downs 
across the face the crimson stain was outlined, it alone marring the 
palor of the face. 

Thomas Cobb Jackson had died in the arms of his father, while 
being carried from the hack into the house. 

In five minutes the physicians came. Dr. Baird first, and then Drs. 
Armstrong and Hagan. They said that the shot had produced in- 
stant paralysis and almost instant death. 

The bullet had entered the right temple, passed straight through 
the head and lodged just beneath the skin near the left ear. The 
effect was immediately fatal. The ball was of 38 caliber. 

When lifted from his seat in the hack, young Jackson held a pistol 
in either hand. The one in the right hand, and the one with which 
the fatal ^work was done, was 38 caliber; the other 32. Twenty-six 
cartridges were found in his pocket. The pistol and ;^the cartridges 
he had bought at the wholesale hardware store of Thomas M. Clarke 
& Co., during the afternoon. 

was it premeditated ? 

It seems so, and yet I don't believe it. 



30 atlanta'9 bi^ck week. 

Why, then, did he kill himself ? 

There is no denying that Cobb was drinking that day. He devoted 
his day to drinking wine and denouncing in the strongest terms 
any one who suggested that Redwine was a thief. It was his one 
subject of conversation and he obtruded his views on every possible 
occasion. Everybody expected him to have trouble, and he probably 
expected it himself. Hence the pistols. 

When a man has been drinking champagne all day, lies down and 
sleeps a couple of hours, and awakes in a semi-sober condition, he 
feels desperate. If there is any time a man feels like falling a 
suicide's grave, it is then. Cobb Jackson was in that cohdition. He 
had neglected important work; he was desperate. Then he shot 
himself. 

BUT WAS THAT ALL. 

It seems not. There have been other developments that add 
thrilling and dramatic interest to the story. 




MBS, OAKS GIVES WIMBI8H THE SIGNAL, 



Atlanta's black week. 33 



CHAPTER FIVE. 



How Redwine was Captured — A Story More Sensa- 
tional than Fiction Itself. 

The tragic, sensational and mysterious suicide of Cobb Jackson » 
so closely following the Redwine defalcation and the Gate City Bank 
suspension, coupled with the many and varied rumors of their close 
association created the most intense excitement. Within a few 
hours the great social pool that had centered around these two con- 
spicuous fountain-heads, had gone from a feverish simmer to a bub 
bling boil. 

Wild with excitement, afire with curiosity and blinded with the 
fog of impenetrable mystery that enveloped it all, Atlanta — the 
centre of southern culture — threw aside all formalities, even th 
friendly exchange of the day's greetings were forgotten, and the 
surging mass of people seemed to forge forward in tlie desperate 
search for some light that would dispel the smoke of mystery and 
and reveal the fatal explosive that had shattered SQciety from its 
pedestal and rocked, to a dangerous degree the foundation stones 
of the financial community. 

Then, as if to cap the climax of it all, came the capture of Red- 
wine. The developments of tnat day will form a never-to-be-forgot- 
ten page in the history of the Qiieen City of the South. The Con- 
stitution summed up the day's developments in these words : 

Yesterday was prolific of developments in the Gate City Bank case. 

Lewis Redwine, the fugitive cashier, was run down and caught. 

He was subjected to an examination of several hours' which was fruitless 
until he was left with Mr. Jack J. Spalding, when he ^made a full disclosure of 
all that had taken place. 

1. He did not take the money, and has none of it in his possession. 

2. It is true that ^70,000 of the baak's funds were abstracted, but in that abstrac 
tion none of the attaches of the bank are concerned, save Redwine himself. 



34 Atlanta's b i^ck wbek. 

3. The money was passed over to outside parties who have taken it and spent it 
In such a way that is an irretrievable loss. 

3. The names of the parties who thus robbed the bank he does not oare to dis- 
close, because no good purpose can be subserved by it now. 

The story and the subsequent events were .so graphically told by 
"Bob" Adamson, the Constitution's police reporter, that I have taken 
the liberty of using portions of his story. 

Redwino was surprised in his hiding place and caught just before 
noon. He was found in a darkened room in Mrs. M. D. L. Oaks's 
boarding house, 97 Rockwell street, in the southern suburbs of the 
eity. The arrest was made by Patrolman J. T. Wimbish, of the 
evening watch, while off duty and without any assistance except 
that afforded by his thirteen-year-old nephew. Redwine was found 
without the use of strategy, without the usual shrewd ruses of a 
detective. Luck and pluck are two elements predominating in the 
remarkable capture. Wimbish burst into the room where Redwine 
was sitting by the fire. Redwine turned and faced the officer's ugly 
pistol. In a twinkling the handcuffs were about his trembling 
wrists. 

News of the captui-e was telephoned into the city, and was swept 
like a prairie fire. Before Redwine reached police headquarters a 
thousand and more people — some of them poor depositors in the 
Gate City Bank who regarded him as responsible for what seemed 
then their financial ruin — had gathered on the sidewalk in front of 
the prison. 

The bank officials were waiting in the Chief's office for their default- 
ing cashier, and all yesterday afternoon they were closeted with him. 
Only $413 were found in Redwine' s pockets. He denied the shortage 
to the extent claimed. He was extremely reticent in talking of the 
affair, but told enough to convince the officers that he was not the 
only guilty person. 

Then everybody naturally asked, "who are the guilty parties?" 
And they are asking it still. 
"Will they ever know ? 




PATROLMAN WIMBISH CAPTUKIFG KEDWINE. 



36 Atlanta's black week. 

DETAILS OP THE CAPTUKE. 

The missing cashier was found on the extreme southern limits of 
the city, a quarter of a mile beyond the point where the East Ten- 
nesse road crosses SIcDaniel sti'eet. 

The house is the abode of Marquis de Lafayette Oaks, a shoemaker, 
and his wife. Oaks is about fifty-five years of age, and repairs shoes 
in one room of his house. The income of the shoemaker is greatly 
strengthened by the proceeds of Mrs. Oaks' domestic industry. !She 
takes boarders to the number of six or seven, and from this source 
realizes a neat sum. Her boarders are nearly all railroad men, as 
the house is but three minutes' walk from the East Tennessee shops. 
South of the house is a wide forest of tall pines, and on every side 
are steep bluffs, and the whole face of natui-e is rough, except here 
and there a neat new cottage. The neighborhood is very quiet. 

Thursday night, Mrs. Oaks was awakened about 11 o'clock. A 
friend of her husband's, H. H. Black, was at the door, and told Mrs, 
Oaks that he had come to brink her two boards. A few days before 
he had promised to bring her some boarders, and he now came to ful- 
fill his promise. He had ^vith him a young man muffled up in a big 
overcoat, and over his thin face a big slouch hat was drawn down. 
He introduced the little man as Mr, Lester 

Mr. Lester paid Mrs, Oaks a week's board in advance, $4, and gave 
her $1 extra for a night's lodging for Black. She gave the two men 
the middle room, which was furnished with one bed, and a folding 
lounge. Kedwine .sle])t on the lounge by the window; Black occu- 
pied the bed, 

"Lester" awoke late the next morning but did not leave his room. 
Black was up and around the house considerable, but kept a close 
watch on his friend. 

SHE BECAME SUSPICIOUS. 

"Lester" asked that breakfast be brought in to him, and Mrs . 
Oaks' curiosity was aroused, and she was desirous of knowing all 
about the boarder who was grand enough to order meals to be car- 



Atlanta's black week. 37 

ried to his room. While "Lester" was eating his morning meal she 
remained in the room talking, and regarding him critically. 

'•There's something wrong about that young man," she told her 
husband, with a wise shake of the head, "he don't act right." 

She watched the room closely. She noticed that the boarder had 
the blinds drawn down. She entered the room frequently on trivial 
pretexts. She found that her new boader was drinking heavily. Once, 
while talking with him, he told her that he heard some one in the 
front room. He only wanted her to leave the room, 

"Lester called Mr. Oaks into the room and asked him to get a 
Constitution for him. He gave Oaks the money, and the shoemaker 
<5.ime into the city and bought a paper at the Constitution office, 
which he read eagerly. 

The story he read was that which told of the tragic death of his 
friend, Tom Cobb Jackson. He was moved— deeply moved. And 
he showed it. Could he have thought himself in any way responsi- 
ble for the shutting out of that brilliant life ? Did anybody else be- 
lieve him responsible ? A little note, written on a coffin, by a de- 
spairing, heart-broken man, would, perhaps, could it be reproduced 
here, give some idea of what was passing in that young man's mind 
as he read. 

The conviction became firmly fixed in Mrs. Oaks' mind that "Les- 
ter" was 1-iedwine, and she watched him to make sure. She had 
known his father in her youth, and lived near him, and he had been 
her family physician. She noted a strong resemblance between "Les- 
ter" and her early physician. 

Mrs. Oaks announced her conviction of "Lester's" identity to her 
husband, and he started to the city to inform Detective Bedford of 
it. While he was gone, Mrs. Oaks became nervous, and decided to 
rush matters through. She hurriedly left home, went to the home 
of patrolman AVimbish near by, and informed him of her suspicions. 
The officer was incredulous at first, but finally became interested, 
as he noted the earnestness of the woman. He sent her back to see 
if the coast was clear. He instructed her to make a given signal if 
things were all right. 



38 Atlanta's black week. 

He waited on the outside. With him was his thirteen-year-old 
nephew, Israel Brown. The officer was excited, believing that he 
was about to face a desperate man. 

He had but a few minutes to wait Mrs. Oaks appeared on the 
porch and waved to him to come on. With heart beating fast, he 
walked up to the side of the door and climbed the steep steps. 

The woman pointed to the middle door. 

"In there," she said, in a whisper. 

Not another word was spoken. Wimbish lield his revolver in his 
hand behind him. 

He pushed the door open. 

A young man with diifhevelled hair and wild eyes, haggard face 
and wretched appearance generally, stoed up as he entered. 

The man trembled. He was shaking like an aspen. His lips moved 
narticulately. A rough looking man sitting beside him slowly arose. 
Wimbish' s right hand shot out before him, grasping a gleaming 
revolver. 

"Throw up your hands," he commanded. 

The terrified young man made no move to obey. He only stood 
there trembling. 

" \N ho are you ?" he asked. He seemed about to drop to the floor 
through sheer fright. 

"I am an officer, and you are my prisoner," said Wimbish. 

■\yith a single stride he was beside the trembling fugitive. He 
caught him by the arms. He was as helpless as a babe. Wimbish 
drew his hands together. Young Israel Brown stepped in and 
grasped the man's arms. He held a pair of bright handcuffs There 
was a "click, click" and the young man was bound. 

Wimbish started for the door, dragging his prisoner after him. It 
was pitiful to see him as he shrank back, and shook and trembled. 
He kept asking in a broken voice what he was wanted for and what 
was the meaning of his arrest. He declared that his name was 
"Lester." 

"You are Redwine," said Wimbish, and he started with his pris- 
oner to a store near by. 



Atlanta's black week. 39 

"There's no use denying it," said he; "that's my name. How did 
you know '? Who gave me away ?" 

"Why didn't you escape ?" said the officer. 

"How could I ?" asked the wretched man; "I tried to. There was 
no way. I couldn't get out of town. I watched for an opportunity, 
but to move was to be caught." 
At the stoi-e, police headquarters was telephoned. 
"Send the wagon to Gartrell's store on McDaniel street. Redwine 
lias been caught," said Mr. Gartrell over the 'phone. 

"Ah, rats," said the man at police headquarters; "give us some- 
thing new." 

A half dozen times the message had to be repeated ; even then the 
wagon was tardy in coming. 

Officer Wimbish had a long wait at the store. While there wait- 
ing, Redwine sat silent and downcast, his hands locked together. Af- 
ter a few minutes, he called to the officer. 

"Go back with me to the house," he said; "I have a valuable pack- 
age over there that I want to get." 

The officer was suspicious, but calling to his assistance two men, 
he went back to the house. Just before reaching the house Red- 
wine stopped and called the officer aside. 

"I have no package there;" said he. "I just wanted to get you 
away so that I could make you an offer. I will give you $1,500 to 
turn me loose. You can tell them that I was the wrong man. Oh. 
won't you do it?" 

And his tone was full of sadness, while his attitude was one of 
piteous pleading. 

It was pathetic in its wretchedness and misery. For answer 
Wimbish jerked him around and said, "Come with me." The 
jjatrol wagon was a long time in reaching the scene, so the officers 
put Redwine into a hack. Chief Connolly and Captain Wright had 
arrived, and with Wimbish took charge of the prisoner. Then on 
through a channel of staring people the trip to the station house was 
made. 



40 ATLANTA^S BLACK WEEk! 

A big crowd was in front and several officers were required to 
make way through it for the prisoner and officers to pass. Redwine 
stepped out of the hack after Clief Connolly and Captain Wright^ 
nis eyes were b^nt upon the ground. He walked with nervous step 
across. the sidewalk and into the front entrance of .the station. He 
trembled like a leaf. He was afraid of that crowd; was afraid they 
would do him bodily harm. 

l.ctween the two officers he ascended the stairs. He did not 
speak. He moved along with shuffling tread, his face still down- 
cast. 

Inside Chief Connolly's office wei'e President A. W. Hill and Mr. 
J. J. Spalding, who had been detained to represent the depositors. 
Kedwine walked in among these gentlemen, whom he knew well, 
•in a manner that plainly showed his sliame. His air was dogged. 
There was something of defiance even in his bearing. 
"How d'y'e, Mr Hill," said he, bowing to Mr, Lod Hill. 
He bowed to the other gentlemen in the ^oom, quickly glancing at 
their faces, and then as quickly turned away and looked aroimd the 
office, and seating himself sat looking at them as if they possessed 
some sort of fascination for him 

A strange sort of embarrassment seemed to possess the gentlemen 
in Chief Connolly's office. There was a deep silence while Chief 
Connolly had Redwine to stand up and submit to being searched. 

AVhile the officer was going through his pockets, the young man 
stood mechanically, as if he was resigned to submit to anything. In 
his right vest pocket a roll of greenbacks was found. It contained 
§413. A small pocket knife was about the only other article found 
in his possession. 

After being searched Redwine took his seat slightly apart from the 
gentlemen and waited for what was to follow, 

"Lewis," said Mr. Lod Hill, "what did you do with the money 
you took from the bank?" 

"That is all the money I have and, Mr. Hill, it is mine and I took 
no money from the bank." 




eedwine's entry into police headquarters. 



Atlanta's black week. 43 

In a long interview that followed, Redwine firmly denied having 
taken the money. He acknowledged that he knew where $23,000 
had gone, but further than that, he knew nothing about the missing 
money. 

During the conference Kedwine walked about the room, his hands 
thrust deep into his trousers pockets, the picture of wretchedness 
and despair. He wore no collar or cuffs. The waistcoat was thrown 
open, revealing a vast expanse of shirt front. His haggard unshaven 
face reflected the misery he was experiencing. Harassed and beset 
by questions, he seemed on the verge of insanity. 

After being exhaustively interrogated about the shortage at the 
bank, the officers turned their attention to trying to find out where 
he had spent the first night after he had left the bank. 

Although Kedwine professes ignorance as to where he went, his 
first hiding place did not long remain a mystery. He said he did 
not know where he was hidden during the first two days, but he told 
the officers something that enlightened them on this point. 

"I was arrested on Wednesday night by Horace Owens," said ho. 
Owens kept me, waiting for a big reward. He had me guai-ded and 
I am unable to say where we were. Owens had a man hired to guard 
me. That man was Black, and he carried me to the house on Rock _ 
well street last night. 

After hearing this story. Chief Connolly instructed Captain Manley 
to have both Owens and Black arrested. 

Owens stoutly declared that he had received no money from Red- 
wine, but admitted that Redwine had been seen by several of hia 
former associates and friends. These friends were in constant com- 
munication with the defaulter and were directing his movements. 
Owens refuses to reveal the names of the friends of Redwine who 
had called on him, saying he would die first. 

"I w^ holding Redwine while his friends were making up his 
shortage. I did not want to see him suffer. I did not want to run 
him out of town. I was acting for Redwine's friends. I wanted 
to keep him from suicide. I will swear that I did not receive a 
cent of money for what I did." 



44 Atlanta's black week. 

But an entirely different pliase of this feature of tlie case, de- 
veloped later — a phase which deserves a chapter by itself, which it 
shall have later on. 

Mrs. Cora Howard, at whose house it developed Kedwine stayed 
the first night after he left the bank, was arrested. This woman's 
home has been a "household" — if the expression be justified — among- 
the "half world"' of Atlanta for years and the place she now keeps is 
said to be an assignation house and, 1 believe is owned by Horace 
Owens. She said Eedwine came direct from her house from the 
bank. He told her that he was short in his account with the bank, 
but that it Avould be made good. She also stated that he had sent 
for Mr. Dan Kountree, a young attorney who belongs to Kedwine's 
set, and that Kountree had sp-mt some time with him. She did not 
know the nature of tlieir conversation. 

The police felt certain that Cora was telling the truth. They 
asked her about the searcli that was made of her house, for it shows 
that th< ;)lice had suspected that Redwine had gone there and had 
made a search of the house. And, by the way, a funny story is told 
in this connection. 

Tlie scene was the (^apital City Club. At the telephone was a 
young man of Kedwine's set; at the other end of the telephone — so 
he said — was Chief Connolly. 

" Have you searched Cora Howard's yet ? " the young man asked 

The answer is not known. 

"Well, I'd advise you to do it," and then came the call to Central 
"Ring off 1035 !" 

Was the young num giving the Cliief a pointer ? Or was his 
friendliness in the matter feigned, and did he know that it was a 
good time for^^the search to be made — a good time from a Kedwine 
point of view. 

If the latter, it is [probably well for that particular young man 
that his father did not know of his act. 

But I am digressing. You want to know about that search. It 
was made by Captain Thompson and some of his men and was 
borough and^complete, except one little closet. There may be a 




I^\%ril^i 



EEDWINE REFUSES EO TELL. 



Atlanta's black week. 47 

story in how they overlooked that closet. Was it mere oversight or 
did Cora throw them ofiE the track? I have heard a story which is 
to the effect that the gallantry of the officers restrained them from 
throwing open that closet door, they being assured of the presence 
behind that door of a fair young personage to whom discovery 
would be very embarrassing. The name of that fair, but frail fairy 
was not whispered to the gallant Captain, but if it had been he might 
have heard — 

"Kedwine!" 

And he might not. At any rate, Lewis was behind that door. 

After Cora had told her story she was released. But Horace 
Owens and JI. H. Black are held. The latter, by the way, is a black- 
smith, well-known in Atlanta. He is held simply on the belief that 
he could tell an interesting storj' about Redwine's capture by Owens 
and whether or not that capture was simply in the hope of a reward 
as Owens claimed. 

To return to the police station: 

redwine's fathkk calls. 

During the afternoon Dr. C. L. Redwine, a tall handsome old gen- 
tleman, with a military bearing and the air of an arristocral, the 
father of the defaulting cashier called, but the young man positively 
refused to see him. 

Dr. Redwine remained at the door, and finally seeing that he was 
not to be admitted, became angry, and declared tha^ it was his right 
to be allowed inside to protect the interests of his son. 

"My boy has stole nothing," he said. "It is impossible that he 
took the money. He has probably overdrawn his accounts to a 
small extent, but steal — never ! He has been in the bank for fifteen 
years and he has always been perfectly honest. He has been trusted 
by everybody. He did the work of two men. The Hills learned 
that he was short to a small extent, and as their bank is shaky, they 
setfted upon my boy as a scapegoat to cover up its weakness. I do 
not intend they shall do it. I am going to stand by him and see that 
he gets justice." 



48 Atlanta's black week. 

/ 

The doctor was mad. He probably wouldn't have said all of that if 
he had not have been. , 

^Vlien finally told that his son refused to see him, Dr. Redwine 
said : 

"He feels mortified, and does not want me to see him in this con- 
dition. To-morrow he will be all right. If I cannot see him I will 
.<eud him an attorney and see that his interests are protected." 

Dr. Ixodwine sent for Colonel N. J. Hammond, who has been a life- 
long friend, and sent him to his son. Colonel Hammond remained 
in the Chief's office but a few minutes. 

IIE TELLS HIS STORY. 

Mr. Jack Spalding, acting attorney for the bank, held a private 
conference with the young man and heard the wonderful confession, 
making a clear breast of the disposition made of the $20,000. 

According to the very remarkable story which he laid before the 
attorney, he Jiad not enjoyed one cent of the missing money. He 
had merely been used as catspaw. By whom he had been made a 
tool of could not be learned, and probably never will be known. 
Eedwine himself will not tell. In the trial to-day he will hardly 
make a defense. 

If Redwine's story is true he is suffering in silence for the crimes 
of others. He will continue to suffer without opening his mouth. 
The story he told to Mr. Spalding, he would not repeat to any one 
else. 

BREAD CAST UPON THE AVATERS. 

About 8 o'clock a negro bearing a huge bouquet, called at Chief 
Connelly's office and asked for Redwine. The bouquet was a marvel 
of beauty and sweetness. It was made of the very loveliest hya- 
cinths, delicate roses and other magnificent flowers, artistically 
arranged together. There was no card, and the boy refused to say 
who had sent them, Redwine received the flowers with a sickly 
effort at a smile, and held them to his nose, inhaling their fragrance. 
He looked from the flowers with a shame-faced expression. They 



Atlanta's black week. 49 

seemed to recall the past, and what he was, and the contrast was too 
great. There was no card and Redwine asked for none. He doubt- 
less knew the sender well enough. 

This bouquet, by the way, has given rise to an unwarranted degree 
of gossii). It would doubtless suit my story best if I could give 
some of the most sensational bits of scandal that I have heard in 
connection with that simple gift, but my conscience won't permit. 
I know who sent it and it was not sent by a married woman. The 
girl who sent it — she is a young girl, charming, beautiful, and inno- 
cent — give the flowers in the hope that they might in some degree 
solace his weary houi's as flowers he had sent her during an illness 
had made brighter the hours that hung heavy on her hands. 

Not much of a sensation in that, but a very pretty story to break 
the monotony of sensations of this horrible week. 



Was Redwine Held for Ransome ? 



There seems to be no limit to the sensational developments in the 
Redwine-Gate City Bank case, although it is impossible to verify 
many of the rumors upon vhich they are founded. The latest was 
brought out in the trial, in the United States Court, of Horace Owens 
and H. H. Black, who claim they arrested Redwine at the house of 
Cora Howard, on the first night after he skipped, and held him a 
secret prisoner for two days. 

Owens, who was the principal in this mysterious conduct, claims 
that he was acting for Redwine' s friends in holding him, who were 
endeavoring to fix matters up, or make good the shortage. Red- 
wine, on the other hand, declares that Owens was holding him foi 
ransom, and demanded $10,000 for his release. , 

The court trial of Owens and Black, the former being bound over 
and remanded to jail on the failure to make a $5,000 bond, and the 
latter going the same way in default of a $1,000 bond, was ex- 
tremely sensational, and presented several new features to the case. 



60 Atlanta's black week. 

Whether true or not true, they are interesting, aud are a part of the 
sworn records of the case. 

In the course of the trial, some sensational evidence developed, 
which would, if established, criminate no less than ten well- 
known men and place them in the same position in the eyes of the 
law that is occupied jointly by Owens and Black. 

All of this hinges on a statement alleged to have been made by 
Horace Owens to Detective Looney, and repeated under oath by the 
detective; and which the detective claims was not made under com- 
pulsion, but was entirely voluntary, and was accepted as competent 
evidence in the trial court. 

The story told by Owens to Looney discloses a most sensational 
state of affairs, a proposition which might have been called absurd 
had not there been so many mysterious things about the defalca- 
tion, flight and arrest of the assistant cashier. In fact, without 
the certainly very dark surroundings, the tale might easily have 
been regarded in the light of the ridiculous. 

The whole affair of Redwine's absconding was a matter of premed- 
itation, preparation and detailed arrangement, and was thoroughly 
discussed at a special meeting of Redwine's friends, eleven in num- 
ber, the Sunday before the Tuesday upon which he absconded. 

That is what Detective Looney swore that Owens voluutarily told 
him, the conversation having taken place before the conference be_ 
twecn Owens, Chief Connolly and the bank officials. 

At this meeting of Redwine's friends, at which Owens said he was 
present, it was further agreed that Redwine should be put under the 
tender mercies of Owens and taken some twenty miles out into the 
country, and there safely hidden until a favorable moment presented 
itself for a more complete disappearance. 

Of all those who were present at the Sunday afternoon meeting, 
plotting the wrecking of the Gate City Bank, Owens refused to di- 
vulge the name of a single person except one, and that one is dead 
—Tom Cobb Jackson. Of the others, he says that several of them 
are worth from one hundred to two hundred thousand dollars. Al 



Atlanta's black week 51 

this only adds interest to the affair, and every effort will be made 
by the government to ascertain the truth of Ov^ens' statement, and 
if there was any such meeting, the men that were present will be 
brought to ta-k for the part they played in attempting to aid Lewis 
Redwine in his defalcation. To Chief Connolly, Owens stated with- 
out any compulsion or intimidation whatever, that if he told all he 
knew there would be two more suicides before night. A 11 the con- 
versations between Owens and the officers occurred in the Chief ' 
oflSce. 

The place of meeting between the friends of Redwine and Owens 
is not known, but the supposition is that it occurred in one of the 
houses in which Redwine passed part of his time. Where it did 
occur, however, Owens refused most positively to state under any 
circumstances. 

SOME RICH, racy TESTIMONY. 

Cora Howard was a witness. 

"I know Lewis Redwine well," said she, "and he was at my house 
last week, having come on the 21st of Febrsary at 2:30 o'clock in 
the afternoon. He remained in my house Tuesday night, all day 
Wednesday, and until late Wednesday night, ilr. Owens came to 
my house on Wednesday night and asked me if I knew Redwine, 
and I told him that I did. This was about 8 o'clock, and he left, 
but not until I told him tliat Redwine was there. The officers 
searched the house, but failed to find him. It was after the search 
that I told Owens where Redwine was Mr. Ovirens came back later 
In the night and took Lewis away, saying there was big money in 
him," 

"I saw Owens the next day, and he said he had come after a pistol 
which had been left in the house by Redwine, and that be wanted to 
give it all np together. He further said that it was a half hour's 
walk to where Redwine was. Mr. Owens owns the house in which I 
live, but on neither occasion did he come to collect rent." 

"I didn't see any papers that Redwine naight have had," she said 
on being questioned, "nor did I see any package. Yes, Redwine had 



52 Atlanta's black week. 

had ample opi)ortunity to make way with any papers he might have 
had, or to have given them to his friends. A gentleman called about 
5 o'clock and stayed some thirty minutes. Later in the evening a 
lady friend of Redwine's went into the room where he was and stayed 
with him until 1 o'clock the next day, Wednesday."' She testified 
that she did not disturb Redwine and his lady friend. 

"I knew that Mr. Owens used to be a detective," said the witness, 
"and only gave Redwine up because I thought that I covildn't keep 
him hid any longer. I would have kept him in hiding if possible, 
and gave him up to Mr. Owens because I know him." 

She testified also that two lady friends called on Redwine while 
at her house, and that one remained from Tuesday night till Wednes- 
day at 3 o'clock. 

One of these women was a !Mrs. Hammond, whose career in Atlanta 
has been notorious. Exceedingly handsome, she seems to have been 
exceedingly bad, if the tales told on her in the courts, are true. 
She has a handsomely fitted uj} house in the suburb, called Bellwood. 
She was with Redwiue that niglit, and there are good reasons to 
believe it wasn't the first time, but, of course, matters of that kind 
are hard to prove. And somebody paid for the furnishing of that 
house. 

black's lETIMONY. 

H. H. Black, being sworn, said: "Mr. Owens called on me and 
asked me to come with him, as I could make some monej'. I 
thought from the card he showed me that he was a detective, and 
that what I was goin';? to da wa^^ for the good of my country. VVe 
got Redwine Wednesday nig'it, and on Thursday night we took him 
to Oaks', where we secured board for him, Redwine paying for 
his own board. I was sitting with Redwine by the fireplace at 
Oaks' tlie morning after, when he was arrested. The officer 
came in suddenly and shoved a pistol over my shoulder, pointing it 
at Red ^ine, telling him to hold up his hands. Redwine tried to do 
so, but from sheer weakness, was unable to keep them held up. I 
also held mine up." 



Atlanta's alack week. 53 

On cross-examination, it was brought out that Redwine desired 
to be called Jack Lester, and that he jumped every time Owens 
called him Lewis, begging Owens to call him Jack. He stated that 
he had been promised from three to four dollars a day more than 
he was getting by Owens. He had heard a scuffle when Owens got 
Redwine out of Cora Howard's house, and heard Owens say: "I've 
got you now," 

CHIEF CONNOLLY SWORN NEXT. 

Chief of Police Connolly testified after Black. 

"I know Horace Owens," said Chief Connolly, "and I have 
known him for some time. I don't know him as a detective, how- 
ever, and so far as I know, as a detective, he is not authorized to 
make arrests. 

"I ■syas present at the conference of the officers of the bank and 
Owens, and I heard Owens say he did not regret what he did, and 
that he would cut his throat first, making the motion v^ith his hand, 
before he wouM tell any names. He exonerated Black, and in my 
presence said to Black: 'I will see that you get your money. He 
also said that he didn't want the bank's money, but that he wanted 
to be well paid,' " 

Being cross-examined. Chief Connolly said; 

"Owens told me that he thought he knew where $40,000 of the 
money was, and that there was eleven men in it. He said further, 
that if he was to tell all he knew about the matter, there would be 
two more suicides before night. Owens thought that he had pre- 
vented Redwine from committing suicide by taking the pistol away 
from him." 

DETECTIVE LOOKEY'S EVIDENCE SENSATIONAL. 

Detective Looney was introduced by the government and disclosed 
a most peculiar state of affairs. 

"Owens stated tome," said Detective Looney, "in a conversation 
before he spoke to the officers of the bank and the Chief, that he 
had been in charge of Redwine since he left the bank, and that he 
had had a conference with Red wine's friends." 



54 Atlanta's black werk. 

"This conference, so Owens told me, occurred on the Sunday be 
fore the Tuesday upon which Kedwine absconded. He said that 
plans had already been laid to take Redwine out into the country 
about twenty miles, to a place wliere it had been arranged to keep 
him until other and more complete avrjingements could be made. 
He also said that at the meeting on Sunday there were eleven persons 
present." 

'•My recollection is," said the detective, "that his expression was, 
that he had feathered his nest, and that it would be $2.5,000 to him. 
He also said that if anybody had offered him $50,000 that morning 
to turn Redwine over to the officers he would not have done it." 

On cross-examination, Detective Looney said : 

"Cason, one of my conferers, asked Owens who was present at 
the conference on Sunday. Owens' reply was that he would mention 
Tom (^obb Jackson, but that he wouldn't mention the name of any 
man that was living. He also said that some of the men who were 
present at the meeting on Sunday were worth between one and two 
hundred thousand dollars. He stated that that was when he first 
saw Redwine." 




MISS JULIB FORCE, 



Atlanta's black week. 57 

CHAPTER SIX. 



A Sisters's Crime--Almost Unparalleled in the 
History of the Human Race. 



THE SISTER'S DOUBLE CRIME. 



The news of Redwine's capture spread as rapidly as electricity and 
other methods of communication could carry it, ^and within a few 
hours,coming as it did so close to the other thrilling and unusual events 
that had just transpired, the mercury bead of public excitement 
was surging restlessly at the top of the register. ' Atlanta was wild . 
No other word would express the condition of affairs. The people 
were wrought up to a point that even the terrible tragedy of the day 
befoi'e had not put them. More intense — more terrible, did the ex- 
citement grow with each passing minute. The I'umors that flew 
thick and fast seemed to spare nobody. The defalcation, the sucide, 
the capture — what was the relationship of these events? 
But the end was not yet. 

Just as excitement over the Redwine capture had reached its 
highest point, and within six hours from the time the capture was 
made, Atlanta had another tragedy more sensational, if possible and 
more shocking from many standpoints than any that had preceeded 
it. It was inhuman in its conception, horrible in its contemplation 
and terrible in its execution. 

Miss Julia Force a member of an aristocratic and well-known 
family, a pious woman and great church worker, had cooly with her 
own hands murdered her two young lady sisters ! She had fired the 
bullets through brain and had calmly watched the life blood — the 
same that coursed through her veins— ebb away, to mark with crim- 
son stain the history of one of the most diabolical deeds in all the 
history of crime. Then after watching the last breath leave the 



68 Atlanta's black week. 

I 

bodies of her victims, with a steady and deliberate step she made 
her way to police headquarters and surrendered herself, giving as she 
did so the first intimation of the terrible crime. 

No pen or picture will ever do justice to the state of public mind 
in Atlanta that day. People wandered aimlessly, half-dazed, and 
half-mad, as if in tlie midst of some terrible and frightful dream 
What was coming next? Was the whole city mad? Had an epi- 
demic of insanity broke out, or was the angel of death wreaking a 
terrible vengence on a people as in the days of Sodom and Gomor- 
rah of old. These and similar thoughts were running through the 
minds of the people. The excitement was not confined to any par- 
ticular circle or class, but one and all shared the sensations. 

DKTAILS OF THE CRIMK. 

Nothingjcould have been more dramatic than the scene in the 
oflice of the Chief of Police Connolly that Saturday when a lady of 
refinement, education and evidently of superior intellect stepped 
in and, as calmly as if telling of a lost purse or some trivial misdeed 
of a servant, remarked that she had committed a terrible crime. 
Captain Wright, Chief Detective and Assistant Chief of Police, was 
in the office, it being Chief Connolly's dinner hour. 

"May I see Captain Connelly?" asked the lady whom Captain 
Wright had politely greeted. Captain Wright replied that he had 
gone to dinner and would not be back before 4 o'clock. 

" But I would like to see him before that time. It is about a very 
urgent matter. Will you please telephone him and say that I want 
to talk to him about something exceedingly important! " 

The lady spoke in an ordinai*y tone of voice and betrayed not the 
slighest excitement or nervousness. Chief Wright suspected noth- 
ing from the lady's woi"ds or manner, and thinking that she had a 
matter of police business to report to the Chief he telephoned that 
official at his residence. Chief Connelly replied that he could not 
see her before 3 o'clock, as he had not eaten his dinner. 

When told that she could not see Chief Connolly, the lady re- 
quested to see Captain Wright privately. Accompanied by Detective 



Atlanta's black week. 59 

Cason the Captain carried the lady to his office on the third floor of 
the building. 

There the strange lady sat down very quietly and said in a very 
ordinary way: 

•'I have committed a crime and I have come to give myself up. I 
want to be made a prisoner, and want you to protect me." 

Captain Wright was astonished, amazed, at what he heard. He 
looked at the lady to see if there were not traces of insanity on her 
face, but a look convinced him. Iler face was calm as his own, and 
her eyes were firm in their gaze. There was nothing of the maniac 
in her look or general appearance. 

'• What have you done?" he asked increduously. 

" I cannot tell you," said she. "I have committed a crime, and 
that is enough. 1 want you to hold me, and allow no one to harm 
me. I will tell you at 2 o'clock what I have done." 

No amount of questioning could wring the secreat from the woman. 
She w-as determined. Iler coolness belied her words. Captain 
Wright argued that she could have done no very great crime without 
exciting her more than that. While he was talking with her some 
one rapped on the door, i She sprang ui)-betraying nervousness for 
the first time. "Don't let any one in," she begged. 

Captain Wright left his prisoner in the custody of Detective Cason 
and went down stairs, determined to find out if any crime had been 
repoi'ted. He felt sure now that the lady had done something. She 
had refused to give her name, and he had no way of finding it out if 
her story was true. 

Just as he reached the station house keepers office, a messenger 
come running in in an excited manner. Ruiming up to Captain 
Wright, he said : 

" Captain Wright, Policeman Beavers said for you and Captain Man 
ley to go to 44 Crew street for God's sake. A crazy woman has shot 
her two sisters, and has got away. They want you to catch her." 

That was the story that the mysterious visitor was concealing. 

In a few minutes it was all known. Miss Julia Force had delibtr 
ately and with a maniac's coolness and cunning contrived to get her 
two sisters alone in the house with herself, and then had murdered 
them in cold blood. 

8TORY OF THK CRIME. 

Miss Julia Force, who did the killing, is the eldest sister of G. H. 
& A. W. Force, the proprietors of the shoe store on Whitehall stree t 



60 Atlanta's black week. 

She is about forty-five years old, and is a fine specimen of physical 
womanhood. She is not beautiful, but has a magnificent physique. 
Since they came here some years ago, Miss Julia "Force has made 
her home with her two brothers. She received every attention that 
brotherly love could prompt. She has always been regarded as pecu- 
liar. She was willful, and would become melancholy and -wretched 
for days over some fancied slight. She was of an extremely jealous 
nature, and it was a favorite delusion of hers that her mother and 
two younger sisters, Misses Minnie and Florence were her enemies, 
and were continually plotting to make her unhappy. 

Of recent years the family has lived at 44 Crew street, on tha cor- 
ner of Woodward avenue. The eldest of the two brothers, Mr. A. 
W. Force, has been married for twenty-two years, but lost his wife 
two months ago. He has two sons about gi'own. Mr. George Force 
has never married, although he is past middle age. He has devoted 
his time to the care of his widowed mother and his fatherless sisters, 
and the tenderness and brotherly devotion which he has Jshown is 
characteristic of a model brother. 

The only shadow that hovered over the large home was that 
thrown by the peculiar delusion of the elder sister, which was as un- 
founded as it was unreasonable. Nothing would convince her that 
she was -wTong. On all other subjects she was perfectly reasonable. 
But her mad idea that her own motherland sisters were against her 
poisoned all her life, and made her morose, discontented and sour. It 
grew upon her to such an extent that she became] insulting in her 
manner towards them. 

Six years ago Miss Julia conceived the notion of becoming a trained 
nurse, and devoting her whole life to works of charity. This notion 
was discouraged by her family, but the opposition offered by her 
relatives only made her the more determined. 

She declared her intention of withdrawing^frora the world and con- 
secrating her life to good works and the relief of suffering human- 
ity. Her brothers, sisters and mother stronglyiopposed her entering 
such a life, but in the face of their opposition, she went^to-Peekskill 



ATLA^'TA'= BLACK WEEK. 6i 

N. T., where she entered St. Mary's Sisterhood, an Episcopal train- 
ing school for hospital nurses. 

Before going she made arrangements to go to Anniston, Ala., and 
take charge of a charitable hospital, which was to be established 
there by Samuel Xoble, the wealthy iron manufacturer of that city, 
but his death prevented the consummation of that plan. She remained 
at the sisterhood, however, not relinquishing her firm purpose of 
leading a life of devotion to the cause of charity. In her earlier 
years she had been a devoted churchwoman, and had taught a Stm- 
day school class in this city. Her early piety didn't desert her after 
going to Peekskill, and she stiU retained her devout practices. 

During the six years of her stay in Peekskill, her family made ef- 
forts to get her to leave and return home, but she was deaf to their 
entreaties. She was loyal to the one great idea that it was her mis- 
sion in life to help others, and to relieve the suffering. There was 
something sublime about the imfaltertng faith and devotion she 
manifested, and in time they came to respect her unswerving lovaltv. 
Last November Mrs. A. W. Force was taken seriously ill. The 
physicians told her husband and family that her illness was fatal and 
that she would die. Miss Julia had been very sti-ongly devoted to 
her sister-in-law, and now her brothers found an opportunity to in- 
duce her to come home, which they had so long tried to do. 

They wrote to her to come to the bedside of her brother's wife 
and nurse her back to life. Where a hundred other appeals had been 
fruitless this one availed. Nothing else woidd have moved her. 
They told her that she could find at home a field for action, and the 
thought that she could give aid to one she loved was very gratifyino' 
to her. 

It was thought by her family that her former peculiarities had 
disappeared,' and they looked forward to her retitrn with fond antici- 
pations. She came home about the first of last December. At first 
she was busily engaged nursing her sick sister-in-law, and the un- 
tiring watchfulness she showed softened the hearts of her family to- 
ward her. and she was treated with more than ordinary kindness. 
In time Mrs. Force died and was laid to rest. 



62 Atlanta's black week. 

In a very few days aft«r her return from Peckskill it was noticed 
that Miss Jnlia had not forgotten her old foolish idea, and it became 
plain that she now entertained it with more bitterness than ever- 
It was thought remarkable, indeed, that she should cherish for six 
years in absence her foolish idea regarding her mother and sisters. 

About a fortnight after her return home. Miss Julia showed how 
strong was her hatred for her mother and sisters by refusing to take 
her meals with them. She invariably had her meals sent to her 
room, or if not that, she would eat after the other members of the 
family had dined. She rarely spoke to her mother and sisters. 

She lived apart from the other members of the family, nursing her 
imaginary wrongs. She acted without consulting the judgment of 
any one. If she happened to speak to her mother or sisters it would 
be in an insulting tone. 

Matters came near reaching a climax a month ago. One day she 
entered her mother's room and became furiously angry on account 
of some fancied slight that her mother had put upon her by show- 
ing her younger sisters greater consideration than herself. In her 
fury, she hurled her aged and feeble mother against a table, hurting 
her considerably. Mrs. Force was greatly mortified at her daughter's 
conduct, and reported it to her sons. After waiting for two days 
Mr. George Force went to his sister and reproved her for acting in 
the manner that she had. 

"Arn't you ashamed of treating your mother in such a way, Ju- 
lia?" he said. 

"No," she said defiantly; "I would not care if I had killed her." 

Her tone was bitter in the extreme, and she said no more. 

Her treatment of her younger sisters was about as hostile on ac- 
count of her imaginary wrongs. Although she was exceedingly bit- 
ter toward them they did not fear her in the least, and had no idea 
that her hostility would take the form of violence. 

Saturday morning the Forces ate breakfast together as usual. 
Miss Julia waS the only missing member of the household. Her ab- 
sence was not unusual, and was not commented upon. Miss Minnie, 




WHERE FLORENCE LAY. 



AT ANTA S BIACK A\ EEK. 65 

■a remarkably fine looking young woman of tv/enty-eiglit, sat at the 
table with her two brothers, her mother and her two nephews. 

Xot a shadow rested npon the hoiipehold, except the one they had 
become resigned to, and they were haj^py. In a room directly over 
the dining room, Miss Florence, a delicate woman of thirty-three, 
who has been an invalid for six monehs, took her meal. Miss Min- 
nie sat on the edge of her bed and chatted gayly with her while she 
ate si^aringly of the tempting repast. The contrast between the two 
sisters was great. 'J'he yovmger was robust, healthy and full of life ; 
the elder pale, delicate and weak. 

Tlie yellow face of the invalid lighted up as her strong sistei talked 
so cheerfully and hopefully to her. It cheered her inexpressibly to 
see her sister bustling about with so much spirit; dan when the young 
sister went out of the sick-room, the invalid followed her with her 
eyes in which was an expression of the deepest love. 

At the usual hoiir the two brothers left their home and went to 
their place of business on Whitehall street. 

The day wore away, and just after noon, Millie Pickard, a young 
negro girl employed at the Force's as cook, came to the store and 
told Mr. A. W. Force that Miss Julia said for him to come home at 
once. 

Tlie message was an unusual one, and aroused his suspicions He 
intuitively guessed that something had gone wrong, and calling his 
brother, made known his surmise. He asked his brother to go home 
with him, and they would see what had happened. 

The two brothers hurried home together, reaching there about 
fifteen minutes before 1 o'clock. They entered tlie front door 
quickly and stepped into the hall. There was a strange stillness 
about the house. 

The two brothers were excited and stopped in the hallway, breath- 
less. They waited foi some sound. They heard none. 

The quiet of tie grave reigned. No one was stirring. It w.\a 
str inge — remarkably strange. What could have happened. 

They stood in the hallway but a moment. They caught sight of a 



66 Atlanta's bla-k wkek. 

young man on the top landing of the stairway, and ^rl• Force recog- 
nized liim as his son who had just come in. 

The two brothers ran up the stuirway togetliei, now firmly con- 
vinced that something terrible had htippened. 

At the top of the stairway they heard groans. 'I'hcy came from 
Miss Florence's room, on the right of the hallway. Young .Mr. 
Force ran to the door. It was locked. From within came the 
sound of some one moaning in pain. Horrified, the two brothers 
wrenched at the door knob. The maddening thought of their invalid 
sister dying alone came to them, and by means of sheer strength 
they forced the door in. 

Before the door, in the broad glare of an open window, stood the 
bed on which their invalid sister had lain for months. The bed 
stood there now, undisturbed, and on it its invalid occupant. 

Lying across the bed, her feet resting upon the floor, her head 
lying in a pool of blood, was Miss Florence Force. She was gasping.. 
Low moans escaped her. Her slender fingers were tightly clenched 
together and were moving convulsively. 

Over hei" white gown were spots of crimson, freshly made. The 
picture was horrible, revolting, sickening. Upon the snow-white 
sheets were bloodstains, but just beneath the young lady's head was 
a deep pool of blood. Brains had oozed out of the wound, adding- 
to the horror of the spectacle. 

Overcome with liorror, the two brothers ran out of the room and 
down the stairway. Their only thought was to save their sister. 

The whole truth flashed across their minds in a moment. Their 
sister Julia had killed Florence. A t the foot of the stairway stood 
the cook. Excitedly they asked her where their mother and Miss 
Minnie was. She told them they were both out. 

•'Thank God," exclaimed one of them, "they are safe then." 
To make sure they tried the door to their mother's room. It was 
locked, and this fact confirmed their belief that she was away from 
home. She always locked the door when she went out. 

But to make quite sure one of them tried to open the door. No 
key could be found, and Mr. George Force ran into the dining room 



ATJ.AMA!^ JiLAClv WKJ>K O/ 

to search for one. Mr. Albert Force ran back to the rear of the 
house and securing a ladder, placed it beneath the window of his 
mother's room, and in a marvelously short time mounted it. 

\Vheu he reached the top, he bent forward and looked into the 
room. The whole interior of the room was before him.^ijAt a glance 
he took in the horrible situation. 

Stretched at full length upon the floor, her head toward the win- 
dow, her features set in the rigidity of death, Avas his youngest sister. 
Almost fainting from horror, he grasped the ladder for support. 
Just at that instant his brother burst into the room through the 
door which he had forced open, and stood horror stricken, his hands 
thrown uj). 

Kunning out the two brothers started for a physician. They went 
in opposite directions. Two blocks away Mr. A. W. Force met Dr. 
T. S. Powell. He excitedly asked him to drive to his home, and 
they hurried as fast as they could go. 

Dr. Powell hastened to the side of Miss Florence. She was still 
breathing faintly. Blood was gushing from her nostrils and from 
the pistol wound in her head. She' was past all hope. The physi- 
cian merely wiped the blood from the dying young woman's face. 
In a few minutes she was dead. 

The shock of the terrible discovery they had made completely 
unnerved the two brothers. It was many minutes before they 
became composed enough to take any action towards letting the 
truth be known. It was an hour after the killing that it was re- 
ported. 

After collecting his scattered senses, it occurred to Mr. George 
Force that some report of the terrible tragedy should be made to the 
police, and putting on his hat, he went out to find an officer. 

By a remarkable circumstance. Call Officer Beavers wes found 

seated on horseback at the street corner, almost opposite the house 

The officer had just been out to a fire. Mr. Force hastily told the 

officer of the tragic occurrence, and the incredulous mounted officer 

leaped fi-om his horse and entered the house. 

Giving orders that the lady prisoner be held, Captain Wright 



68 Atlanta's bl ack weiok. 

st;irte(l on horseback in OKnipaiiy with Captain Manley for the scena 
of the tiajiedy. He nt)\v understood the affair. His strange lady 
visitor -was twice a murderess. He found Ollicer Beavers at the 
Force househokl. In a short wliile, Detective Looney arrived, and 
then came Sergeant AVhite and Oliiccrs Whatley, Lauroid and Pliil- 
lips. There was nothinu' in tlie way of apprehendinn' the murderess 
that the officers couhl do, and they were kept busy keepim;' the crowd 
back, which by this time had trot news of the tragedy and liad 
arrived. 

It w^as rumored that Mrs. Force had also been killed, and a searcli 
Avas made for her. Wliile tliis was going on, she reached home from 
a shopping tour. Her grief was terrible when the truth was revealed 
to her. ■■ he swooned, and had to be supported to a seat. For hours 
she sat and moaned i)iteously. 

The pistol with which tlie deed was done was found on the dresser 
is Miss Julia's room. It w^as new, a Smith & Wesson, and had never 
been shot before doing its fatal work. Only two chambers were 
empty. 

Miss Julia's room was a neat one. The furnishings were such as 
would be selected by a iiersou of unique taste. A new novel, "Ava- 
tar," was found where she had just tlirown it. 

Coroner Paden arrived at 3 o'clock, and an inquest was begun. 
Dr. Olmstead carried the jury into the room where tlie dead bodies 
lay. They first entered the room where Miss .Minnie lay dead. Dr. 
Olnistead raised her head from the pool of blood in which it lay. A 
bullet hole was found just over the left ear. i^he lay beside a chair, 
and it was evident that she had been sitting in her chair when her 
sister had crept up behind and shot her. The maniac murderess had 
then locked the door behind her. 

The jury next viewed the body of Miss Florence in her room up- 
stairs. It had not been moved. It was a ghastly sight to look upon. 
The room showed touches everywhere of a woman's delicate hand, 
and all its furnishings were selected with a woman's taste. There 
was the dainty, beribboned work box, a pretty card case, a j^hotograph 
album, a lady's street suit, and many other articles that suggested 
femininity. On the mantle were photographs of the Rev. G. .Vi. 
Fusten, Dr. Strickler, and other ministers. Dr. Strickler, was the 
young lady's pastor. 



Atlanta's black we-^k. 69 

Millie Pinkai-d, the oook, a very intelligent colored girl, was sworn. 
She said that Miss Julia had sent her to the grocery store i^i the morn- 
ing about 12 o'clock to get a broom. She was met at the docir on her 
return and told to go up town and ask Mr. Albert Force to come 
house at once. Miss Julia had already sent out the house girl. 
The house girl had never come back. 

The inquest was adjourned to the station house to continue the 
hearing of evidence. Here Officer Beavers was sworn. The jury 
wanted to have Miss Julia before them, and Chief Connolly led her 
into the room. She took a seat before the jury, but hung her head 
and refused to look up. When questioned, she merely replied in a 
low voice: 
"I have nothing to say, now!" 
The jury found a verdict as already stated. 

Miss Julia has never admitted directly that she did the killing. To 
Captain Wright she had stated that she had committed a crime, but 
she refused to say what it was. Chief Connelly talked with her priv 
ately for half an hour, but she told him none of the details of the 
killing. She betrayed no signs of mental derangement. She undid 
a large breastpin, which she wore about her throat, and handed it 
to the Chief. The pin contained a picture »f a gentleman past mid- 
dle age. 

" This is my father's picture," she said, " and T want you to keep 
it for me. I do not want to wear it in jail." 

To Chief Connolly Miss Force stated that she could tell nothing 
about the tragedy and its causes. She said tfeat she had written a 
long statement, detailing her reasons for doing what she had done. 
A number of friends called to see her, but she refused to see them. 
The two dead young women were exceedingly popular^ in the cir- 
cle in which they moved. 
The two young ladies were laid to rest at the sam§ time. 
A double funeral with ministers of two different denominations 
officiating is a rare event in the history of any locality. 
But it is just what Atlanta had that day. 
One of the ladies was a devout Episcopalian, while the other was 



70 All AN'J. '>.'.'- BJACK WEKK. 

au anient nu'Uibcr of the rresbyterian cluuvli. The fuin-ral services 
weiL- lu'ld at tlic residence of the motlier of the younf:; ladioK aud tlie 
]!ev. Dr. '1 iijjper, of St. Phillips, aud the Kev. Dr. Strieklcr, of tho 
Presbyterian church, officiated jointly. 

The pallbearers for the one were the pallbearers for the t)ther, and 
the t'lvo hearses followed each other closely on the way to Oakland, 
where the two bodies were laid to rest side by side. 

THK FOKCE FAMILY. 

The Force family is one of the oldest and best in tlie city and thes 
members have always been held in the highest respect and esteem 
by all who liave come in contact with them. 

i\jr. and Mrs. Force, father and mother of the young ladies, came 
to Atlanta from South Carolina in the latter part of the '(iCs, and it 
was not long before the social worth of the family was generally 
recognized; w^hile at the same time, the elder Force and his willing 
and intelligent sons were making for themselves a name in the 
business world, wl ich to tliis day has not been shadowed by any 
sviggestions of wrong. 

Th^elder Foice opened a shoe store, and was the pioneer in that 
line in Atlanta. He was one of the most accommodating, energetic 
and polite gentlemen in the city, and quickly drew around him a big 
patronage. All who went to the place were sure to return again, 
and thus it was that the house built up a trade which has never left it 
Mr. Force, while working^ to acquire something for lis family, was 
one of the most orthodox home stayers in the city. When he was 
not engaged in the store he was with his family, and those who now 
recall those days, say that it was one of the happiest homes in the 
city. 

In his business life, Mr. Force was given the aid and assistance of 
four sons, all bright, quick, energetic, willing young men. At home 
he found in his rest from work the love and devotion of his estimable 
wife and daughters, who were considered among the most charming 
young ladies of the city. Tlie home was one of the most delightfu 



Atlanta's black week. 71 

in the city, and there many of the most delightful and elegant enter- 
tainments in the social history of Atlanta have taken place. 

Several years ago, the elder Force died, and it was then that his 
eldest two sons took up the business. And from that day to this, the 
firm of G. H. & A. W. Force has been a leading factor in Atlanta 
trade. No one in the city is better known or more universally re 
spected than the two gentlemen who are now conducting the business 
.their father established years ago. They are both quiet, successfu 
business men, and through their entire career have never obtruded 
themselves upon the public. They were always at their place o^ 
business and seemed very much devoted to each other and equally 
devoted to their home, where they were always to be found when 
not at the store. Their old mother and their sisters seemed to be a 
part of their lives, and with them they were always happy. 

After the father's death, the first troubles came to the family. 
Houston Force, the third son and one of the handsomest and most, 
popular young men in the city, became involved in a trouble with 
Mr. W. W. Haskell, the well-known insurance man of Atlanta. The 
affair ended in a duel between Mr. Force and Mr. Townsend, who 
took Mr. Haskell's place in the affair. The duel was fought with 
double-barreled shot-guns near Oakland Cemetry, and resulted in the 
serious wounding of Mr. Townsend. Mr. Force left the city at once 
and went west, and nothing was heard of him for several years* 
Four or five years ago, he came back to Atlanta and remained with 
his amily for a few weeks, when he returned to St. Louis 
where he is now in business. The duel was one of the most 
complete ever fought in Georgia and the affair threw its first cloud 
over the Force family. The youngest boy, Mr. Ward Force, was ver- 
much devoted to Houston, and some time after the affair of honor 
the youngest son lost his mind and is now in the insane asylum. 
The forced absence of one brother and the mental troubles which 
required the absence of the other brother, preyed upon the minds of 
the two gentlemen, but they bore their troubles without a murmur 
and every dny that went over their heads brought new friends to 
them. The sadness of their hearts was known to no one, not even 



72 Atlanta's black week 

tlieirold motlicr ronliziiiLr the extent of tlulilow to tlioiii, so com- 
pletely did they eoneeal their trouhles from her on :u'coiint of their 
great love for the woman who liad tau;^htt])em their lirst prayers 



Ravings of a Woman's Maddened Brain. 



The Journal received Miss Julia Force's hook in which she wrote a 
fnll statement of "her trotdjles*' wliich led up to the killing of her 
sisters. 

A strange thing about this remarkable statement is that it was 
\vritteu before the killing, perhaps many da:s. and tliclast paragraph 
added just prior to the act. 

It is the mad ravings of a disordered brain, and every line in it 
points to insanity. 

A DESCRIPTION OK TIIK BOOK. 

T' e book in which this fearful- diary is written is an ordinary ac- 
count book, about 6 by 12 inches, containing 144 pages, many of 
which are blank. On the flyleaf is written, in a strong hand, "J. H. 
Force, 18S8." The first two pages contain an index making reference 
to the virtues, quotations from the Bible, a list of medicines, most of 
which are poisons, and such subjects as murder, justice, revenge. 

The Journal reporter was the first newspajjer man to see the book, 
as it was not shown to anybody until to-dn y. 

Every word written in the book by Miss Force is given below: 

HER STATEMENT IN FULL. 

To any one who may read this story of trouble, I would say that 
where so many lives are so closely intermingled, it is often difficult 
to preserve clearness in recital. But I will try t6 follow each sepa- 
rately to certain points. As it is my trouble which I wish under- 
stood, I will begin witii myself. 



Atlanta's black ^ erk. 73 

To those of an older generation, who know what tender sevfice 
was rendered to the ohiklren of a family hy the "mammy" or 'do," 
what mine was to me needs no explanation Those of a younger 
generation could never he made to understand the closeness of the 
relation. All that "mammies" were to children, mine was to me; 
tender, loving, full of pride and protection, gentle and tyrnnical; all 
and more, for as she was heyond her class in intelligence, so she wa 
beyond them in resources. AUie and myself were her favorites, and 
were the recipients of her defense wiien required, and lier love al- 
ways. This is what she told me of the circumstances of my birth: 

Two or three months before I was born mother developed an unsa- 
tiable appetite for the coarsest food condiments to an East India de 
gree of liery seasoning. I was born an apparently healthy child. 
Mother's morijid t iste continuina- against t!ie doctor's advice (who 
told her she would kill herself and child) if Indulged in. When I 
was about ten weeks old my body became spotted into boils, which, 
breaking instead of healing, spread into discharging sores, covering 
my entire person except my face. 

As I grew older and learned the use of my hands, they were used 
instinctively to lessen the itching, so that (1 have lieard mother say) 
when I was taken from my crib i-i the morning, it lot)ked as if a 
piece of newly butchered beef had laim there. When between two 
and one-half and three years of age the body was cured but the head 
remained one mass of sores. A doctor was called in, who, giving a 
treatnient, w;irned mother to attend to it lierself. 

I was to be placed on my back in her lap an 1 the wash used Irora 
my face or the eyes would suffer. This she did for a few days (when 
I would scream with smarting pain. I received no word of pity or 
encQuragement, but a slap and command to be quiet). After a few 
days I was" abandoned to the white nurse ("mammy" had at the 
time been made cook). She, of course, hated tiie duty, and mule 

me suffer for lier displeasure. 

Dreading it, I would hide whilst she was making preparations. I 
was soon dragged from my hiding place with all the rouglmess of 
which the irritated Irish temperament was capable. Catching me by 



74 Atlanta's black week. 

the back of the neck, my poor bleeiling head ^vas held over the 
bowl, and often, instead of rubbing the soap into the water as di- 
rected, she would rub the soap on :mj' head. Imagine the pain. The 
sharp edges of the soap striking the raw, bleeding sores. 

When I became frantic with the pain, I was taken to mother with 
the nurse's account of my conduct and was whii)ped without further 
Investigation Often and often, as "mammy,'" hearing me scream, 
"came up stairs" and with tiashing eyes caught me from the nurse 
and carried me back to the kitchen with her, incurring puuisliment 
from mother for doing so. The happiest times of my earliest child- 
hood were those spent with her. ]\Iother's nature was a pleasure- 
loving, careless one, and most of her time, when presentable (she 
had children rajjidly), was spent in shopping and visiting, and be- 
tween the white nurse and "mammy" I saw little comparatively of 
her. The frequent How of the putrid matter from my head into my 
eyes and face, through Kllen's careless washing, bronght the result 
predicted and warned by the doctor. ]\Iy eyes became frightfully 
inflamed, and from that time have never ceased to be a source of 
mortification, detriment and pain to me — and this I owe to my 
mother. 

Often in after years she would gibe me with it. Tlie iiillamtnation 
of the lids prevented the laslies from growing. One day she said to 
me, laughing heartily, as if she thought she was very witty, "i declare, 
Julia, you look ridiculous, exactly like a house Mithout blinds;" 
and again, "You ugly thing! 1 should think your face would hurt 
you." There was never any consideration from her of my hurt 
feelings. I was a sensitive child and would have been a loving one 
had I been encouraged; but "mammy" having died and father — it 
was now war times — more or less away from home, there was no 
one to attach myself to, so 1 grew to be a reserved child. It was a 
wonder that I was not morose and morbid. 1 think mother always 
disliked me. My condition made me at first unpleasant to her, and 
later my eyes were a mortification to her also. If she could raise a laugh 
about me for that cause or any other she never spared me. When I 
was thirteen, I of course, kept a diary. It was as sacred to me as 



Atlanta's black week. 75 

that of any grown woman's to her. I was naturally the heroine of 
all tnat was in it and at thirteen, again due to in y^ mother's cai-eless- 
ness and inattention, I was more advanced in the world's ways than 
a girl ought to liaA^e been at t.venty. I never trusted my mother — 
my experience with her had tauglit me better — ^so had hidden my 
diary. She found it one day and taking it to an assembly of young 
ladies and gentlemen, read the contents to them. You can imagine 
the consequences to me and my important wrath. 

At the time of the bombardment of Charleston, I sras sent to my 
grandmother's with Florence and Minnie, "to be their little mother" 
so father said, '• until mother could follow." I indeed tried to be 
giving up my own pleasure for them, seeing that they were always 
nicely dressed and protecting them from the encouragement of their 
cousins. There wa^ a host of them at grandma's — refugees from 
Washington. Florence was aijways a domineering and sullen and 
untruthful child. 1 will give one instance which will give a keynote 
of her character: 

"Mammy" had a number of times come to me with a broken toy 
in her hands, saying, "Julia, see, Florence broke it." 

[F. was then 7, M .5.] I thought it was an accideat an 1 tried to 
comfort her One day I went to the room to call them for a walk 
.and heard Florence say, "Minnie, if you don't give me this tub for 
my room, I will break it ail to pieces. Minnie commenced crying 
and said site wanted it, and before Lcould interpose, F. dashed it in 
fragments. 

I returned to my room quietly, and in a few minutes Minnie 
toddled after, crying and allowing me pieces of the tub, and said* 

"Julia, see; Florence has broken my tub." 

"How did she do it '? " I said. 

The child tried to imitate the way Florence had done it. 

I went to Florence and said: 
"Florence, why did you break Minnie's tub ? " 
"Why Julia," she replied, "I did not break it at all. Ora (a cons 
in) was playing with it yesterday; she must have broken it." 

1 told her what J. had seen and as punishment made her stay at 



76 Atlanta's black week 

burnt?. Slio was ouiy sullen, never the least ashamed or repeut. 
aut. That has befeu ber mode of proceeding all her life — to do a 
mean thing, lie about it, and if possible blame some one. 

I was six years older than Florence and eight yeais older than 
Minnie. 

My father had taiiglit both sons and servants to pay me proper 
deference and respect, and all tlie good in me and all the good I have 
ever had in my life 1 owe to him. lie v.as just always, and though 
be had a violent temper, it was perfectly under control. 1 never 
saw him give way to it but twice in my life, and then under great 
provocation. As long as he lived every pleasure he could command 
w\as given to me; every evil of which he knew he kept from me, and 
my brothers instinctively imitated him, gave me love, deference and 
protection. 

When he died (so mother told me) lie gave his business to my broth 
ers, to be shared equally with us — their mother and sisters — and they 
promised that it should be done. W e had as a family been liberal 
Times and bu.siness had become dei)ressed before he died. After 
ather's death A Hie gradually became bead of the family, although 
Geoi'ge was his senior. Allie was constantly growling about ex- 
penses and his nose being held at the grindstone. 

I was a proud woman, and liis complaint hurt me, though mother 
having dismissed all but one servant, I was working like a slave — 
willingly, I admit; if by doing so I could help my brothers and at 
the same time feel that I, too, was contributing to the lessening of 
their buidens; but Allie"s continual rcfeireilce to his nose and the 
grindstone made me determined to leave home and relieve him of my 
support entirely. 

^ly preparations I told him. He then told me I owed him nothing 
that what came out of the store '.vas as much raitie as his, George 
repeaud the same thing. 

I carried out my determination, however. Week after week came 
litters begging me to come back, then Allie came on for me, but I 
lield on a little longer; linally, after a year I returned. 

I found mother doing all the drudgery of the house, while Florence 



Atlanta's black week. 77 

ami Minnie laughed and talked with their friends. 

Gradually, I took it from her, for though she had been a poor 
mother to me, my own self respect would- not see her doing such 
hard work without trying to relieve her. 

Soon I was back in the old traces — wiping up stairs and halls 
scouring tables, cleaning roonjs and doing^mother's dress-making. 

Before I had gone away I had xuade all of F. and M.'s clothes and 
bouglit them, fitted and draped all Irene's ^dresses, had made all of 
motlier's, besides m'lking the hats, bonnets and often the cloaks of 
the family. 

Of course, I did all my own s 3 wing. All this I-did without help — 
besides the house work. 

After I retiu-ned, 1 let F. and M. do their own sewing; fitting and 
<drapiug only for them. ' 

After Minnie had become fifteen, I had been more a mother than a 
sister to hej, had given her most of her pleasures, had made my 
friends hers, had helped her in all difficulties with Florence, and 
they were many; for after the restraint of father's presence had 
gone, Florence gave way to those ugly traits of her childhood which 
had made her so unlovable, 

Her brothers, whilst they cared for her in a mild way, certainly 
did not love her, although she never, after the manner of some wo- 
men, showed tlie extent and the depth of her ugly ways to them. 
.Minnie v^as continually asking my pn)tection from her domineering 
and uusisterly acts. Guests in the home, usually relatives, would 
come to me and say (they all of them came to me), "If it were not 
for the rest of the family, I would i3ack my trunk and leave the 
house. I never met anyone so Insulting as Florence." Irene, cry- 
Jng, would say. "Julia, I cannot stand Florence's insults." 

Often and often this would happen. I would go to Florence and 
reproach her for her conduct, and if I could not get some intimation 
that she would behave herself, would always threaten to speak to 
her brothers. This always had a transient eftect. We had all de- 
termined that none of the difficulties and quarrels of the females 
should be brought to the notice of the men at t'.ie store, thinking 



78 ATLANTA'S BLACK WEEK. 

tliey had enough to contend -witli there. I believe, with after expe 
rience, that this was a mistake. 

They wouhl have been, mi'st have been just in tlieir decisions af- 
terwards. But after all one cannot tell. 

This I do know, tiiat among theuiselves, for an insult men will 
light; for a growl or snarl they will retort with a cur.se; for one 
annoyance they will do many disagreeable things. Let a man quar- 
rel with another and retorts more or less serious will follow. 

But tell tliem of the daily annoyances, quarrels, acts of spite and 
meanneas of a woman which makes the happiness of a family im- 
possible, and they pass it by as of little importance. !n other words, 
a woman must stand daily what they will not bear one hour. 

Florence became worse and worse, more and more unbearable. 

Wlien she was angry with me she had two ways of showing it. Any 

housekeeper will understand how unbearable they were. Our hall 

was covered with oil-cloth, the steps were stained. P2vcry Saturday 

I'would wipe down the staiis and oil-cloth. The hall was quite full 

of bric-a-brac, all of which had to be wijicd off. iJefore beginning 

the work, I would find out whose week it was to clean their room,^ 

Florence or Minnie's. If Florence's, I would wait as late as possible 

and would then ask her to please attend to it, for thougli it was the 

rule to shut doors and open v/indows in sweeping, Florence, to spite 

nie, would not do it, but instead, would throw open her door and 

sweep all the dirt, dusc and trash into the clean stairs and hall that 

I had just swept, probably two hours of work, and such hard work. 

Need I ask any housekeei)er how she would bear having a thing like 

that done to her? After finishing the stairs and hall I would go to 

the dining room and pantry, which were in tlie basement, and 

after preparing the dining room and setting the table, would 

give the pantry a thorough cleaning — scouring shelves, safe, sink 

and tiible. F'lorence would wait until I had thoroughly finished and 

had gone up stairs, utterly worn out, to dress for dinner, and putting 

the kerosene stove on my nice, white table, it run over with oil, and 

make something for herself, within half an hour of dinner — custard 

pudding — anything that would give an excuse for messing up the 



Atlanta's black week. ♦ 79 

table, and would tlieu take the sooty pan aud run it up and down 
the table, besides taking silver, glass and ci-ockery from the table 
knowing that it always put AUie in a temper to have us get up from 
the table to svipply it with articles that might have been placed there 
at the proper time. 

I would come down when the bell rang and find the disorder de- 
scribed, and this after all my hard, hard work. 

At another time I put up some curtains in Allie's room — curtains 
that had been lying away for a year or two and had been used in a 
small room. Later in the day I returned to attend to his fire and 
found one curtain torn off and lying on the floor, the other hanging 
by one tack. Irene passed and I asked who had done it. 

"Florence," she replied. "I begged her not to do it." 

I opened Florence's door and said, "Florence, did you tear down 
those curtains?" 

"Yes, I did. I thought they were mine and determined that you 
shouldn't have them; but when I got them down, I found that they 
were not mine," and she gave a mean little laugh, jieculiar to her. 

A few days afterward I was at work down stairs. Minnie came to 
me and said Florence was sweeping mother's room with the doer 
open. 

Mother's room was in my care. Florence had nevei troubled it ne 
fore, but finding that Minnie had swept their room, determined to 
^nger me some way. 

I went to the room and said to F., "This door must be closed. I 

will not let you serve me this way again." 
"It shall not," she replied, violently. 

"\\'hy are you sweeping mother's room, you never did it before?' 
"I will sweep it whenever I please," was her answer. 
Then I said, "Ihe door must be closed," and turned to close it. 
■She drew her hand back and slapped my face with all her strength; 
t,he print of her fingers remained for hours. I had never received a 
blow in all my life. My father had always said that his children 
should never be slapped in the face ; that it was an indignity he 



80 Atlanta's black week. 

< 

would never suffer them to endure. I was speechless with astoni.sh- 
meat for a few moments after tlu -low, and stood jjazing at Florence. 
Slie gave one of lier ugly laughs, th a the temper which I had iu- 
herited from my father and mother too,, p ),s8essioii of ni.;, ;ra 1 catch- 
ing her, I would have thrown her out of o wind )\v, but, foitu- 
nately for us both, she fell over a chair, and in disentan-jjling her, I 
had a moment to think, and, turning iier over, gave her one of the 
worst spankings siie ever had. 

When mother returned and heard of it, she did not blame Flor- 
ence at all, but poured out all her wratli on me Later on wlien I 
reproached her witli the injustice she had always treated me with, 
she said: 

''I have gone down on my knees to Florence and begged her to 
behave herself, but I can do nothing with her. I have no influence 
over her.'' 

The day aft(n- Florence slapped my face my mother was talking 
and laughing with her as if nothing had hapened. To jne she did 
not speak. I wis in this wiy that mother constently encouraged 
Florence in all the evil she did. If there were to be no unpleasant 
consequences to uer, why should she restrain herself ? On the other 
side tliere was myself, who worked like a slave to save mother from 
drudgery, who made her clothes and took care of her when sick, 
and what had I gained but continu.al injustice ? 

I appealed to my brothers for the first time. They said tiiey could 
not turn Florence out of doors; but they were indignant with her 
for wduit she had d(me until mother, fearing for Florence, used her 
inliuencc as a mother to stay their indignation and made them doubt 
me, It was a cruel injustice — a vile use of her motherliood Then 1 
said I would go away. When I told mother that she had succeeded 
in driving me away from home, her reply was: 

"What if you do. Pe()i)le will say you went away once before. 
You will be blamed; no one else." 

!She knew the world; I have been blamed. Cut I trusted in Ood. 
Where was he? I had never been trained for self s^upport. Years, 



Atlanta's black week. 81 

before, when I had begged to be taught bookkeeping, I was opposed, 
saying I sliould never have to work as long as niy brothers lived; so 
for seven years I did wliat I could find to do, naving no choice 
in the matter; uncongenial work, all of it, but I was paid 
rather well for it. It was not the work I minded, for I was at least 
ndependent, but "the all sorts and conditions of men " that I wa» 
necessarily thrown with, the close contact with the seamy side of 
life, I who had been so sedulously attended, so tenderly cared for 
and indulged during ray dear father's life. It is a crime for a girl 
not to be taught a supporting profession. She needs it more than a 
boy, aad yet she is neglected and the boy receives every training 
During those seven years, Allie frequently wrote me, asking me to 
come home. H>juston wrote me that the boys (my brotlier*) were 
breaking their hearts about my absence f^-om home, naively telling 
me that "Florence had not been at his house a week before he found 
out that it would be impossible to live with her," and further on in- 
his letter saying: 

".lulia, go home. It is difhcult, I know, to live with Florence,, 
but you are strong." 

"Impossible" for him to live with her, but only difficult for me. 
After nearly five years', 1 accepted a proposition from Bishop Wil 
mer, of Alabama, to go to New York and be trained for a nurse at Bel- 
view Hospital, so that I might take charge of a liospital in his state 
(The c^htract called for a two years' engagement. The summer before 
I WHS to leave the hospital, ^Uie came on and again begged me to 
come home. Putting his head upon the table, he cried like a child' 
saying between his sobs, "Come home, Julia, como home." 

I replied, " Allie, if I should return, it would only be the old 
troubles again; Florence is the same. 

No, Julia;" said he, "come home and I will guarantee that you 
will have no more trouble." 

I made no promise, but then in the following spring he wrote of 
Irene's illness; told me what had been done for her and her terrible 
condition, entreated me it I knew anything that could be done for 
her to let me know. I replied: "I have had about two years experi- 



82 ATLA.NTa'h JiLAl'K WEKK. 

ence as a nurse. Aftev what you said last summer, if you wish mo 
to come home and kelp Irene and will send me the mo)iey, I will 
come."' 

He sent the money with a letter begging me to come. With diffi- 
culty I obtained an excuse from the committee to be excused from 
the six weeks' service I still owed them, upon condition that I for- 
feited my diploma. It w'as a hard condition, for I had gone through 
fearful work to obtain it. But if Allie needed me and under the 
conditions, I knew the Bishop would be contented without the 
diploma. 

I returned home, and Irene was put in my charge; as soon as I 
saw her I knew she could not live. I thought she must die in a few 
hours. She lived, however, one week. It was a glad releas for her, 
for her mai'ded life after the^first two years had been a most un 
hajipy one. 

Allie neglected her, bullied her and even threatened a divorce. 
One night after 11 o'clock, (Allie had just come in and gone to his 
room) she came to me, white and trembling, and exclaimed: 

"Oh! Julia, I am so frightened. Allie has been cursing me and 
looked as if he would kill me, he has frightened me so," and she put 
lier quiveriug hand over her heart. I said, " what did you say to 
him, Irene?" 

"Not one word," she replied. "-Vs soon as he saw me he b^g'an 
cursing me, and went to the children's crib and shaking his fist at 
them, cursed them; ' damn their souls,' he' said, 'I Avish they were 
in hell.' " 

"Irene," I said, "Allie will never hurt you or the cliikben." 

"Never mind, Jnlia," she said, thinking I was taking up for him 
*' Allie will make you suffer some day as he has made me suffer" — 
■was there ever a truer prophecy? And again, a few (tays before she 
■died, I was sitting by her; she had not spoken for an hour, when 
suddenly turning her head towards me, she said, " .Julia, tliis family 
is going to make you sec hell." (She who had been so gentle, had 
in her last delirious days fallen into an evil way of speaking entirely 
out of character with her.) 



Atlanta's black week. 83 

"No, Irene," I said, "Allie has promised me his protection." 

"Hypocrite!" she exckiimed with deep venom. I heard she had 
frequently called him hypocrite during her illness. The fanrily 
thought it was entirely owing- to her wildness; but I, in whom sh& 
had confided much of her married troubles, believed the flickering- 
mind recalled the remembrance of her injuries and suffering. 

For six months after Irene's death time passed smoothly enough. 
Then Florence began her old aggravations. Finding that I paid no 
attention to them or her, she became more and more aggressive, 
treating me with every indignity and annoyance that years of prac- 
tice had given her skilled use of. After about eighteen months of 
that kind of thing my patience became exhausted (indeed to be 
patient with her was to invite aggressiveness) and I resented all she 
did. 

I had begun to sell embroidery in order to make a little pocket 
money. To ask for every ten cents to go on the f street cars and 
every twenty-five cents I needed for small necessities, has always 
been, since my father's death, a hard matter to me. 

And my brother, like many another man, never gave the women o 
his family sny money except when they asked for it, and never more 
than was asked. 

If men would only occasionally put themselves in a woman's place 
and a>k themselves if things were reversed how they would like tO' 
have every penny doled out to them. But even good men otherwise 
never think of the humiliations they daily compel the women of 
their family to endure. 

Embroidery requires many hours of constant work to accomplish 
a small design. As I had oftlv two chairs in my room then, I have 
since bought and unearthed from the humble room two others, one 
a straight back chair with broken springs, the other was an old arm 
chair ^vith springs in even a worse condition, as it gave me great 
pain to sit for hours in either of them, I took a chair from the parlor 
not dreaming there would be any objection made. I thought of 
keeping it only a day or two until my first money was made, when I 
intended buying me one. 



84 Atlanta's black wekk. 

Tlie parlor is very small and su crowded with chairs, but Florence 
was in one of her worst luiniors, and, seeing that I had taken tlie 
chair, she, tirst taking out two chairs which belonged to Minnie and 
herself (three chairs out of a small room left it looking rather bare), 
went to mother and complained that I had taken a parlor chair into 
my room. (Did I not have as much right to the chair as she had ?) 
My brothers ha<l told me again and again that I had as much right 
to the money and all the conveniences of the house which the money 
from the store procured, as tuey had. I know I had as much right 
as SisTKK Flouexce or Mijjnie, and so far from my endeavor to 
lessen the burden of expenses by the effort to help myself invalidat- 
ing my right, it ought to have augmented it. 

iMy father had left his business to his sons for tlie benefit of his 
family, and they had promised to so use it. My falhei-, at the close 
of the war, had taken tlie benefit of the bankrupt law. Large sums 
were owing him, of which he could not recover one cent. 

He could not pay liis debts unless his creditors paid him, and as 
there was no shadow of hope of that, he could not remain idle. He 
must get his sons into business and support his family. The firm 
began under the name of B. W. Force & Sons, and making use of his 
-old connections and prestige, he soon built up a good business. 

George was always a quiet boy and gained little confidence with 
advancing years, spending comparatively little money in his man- 
hood. AUie was very extravagant (though in later years becoming 
Iiarsimonious in a humiliating degree with his wife, mother and sis- 
ters), fond of society and lavish of his pi-esents to female friends. 
Houston also was extravagant. He soon' left the store and went into 
the world for himself. I have repeated these business details as they 
have been repeated to me by both Allie and George. 

If they lied to me as to my right to a living from the proceeds of 
the business, in order to keep me home, or to bring me back after 
twice leaving it, I cannot be blamed for believing and trusting them. 

The tie between Allie and myself has been particularly close. 

We were nearly of an age. and had been constantly together in so- 
ciety interests until his marriage. After that event he still talked a 



Atlanta's black week. 85 

good deal to me. It was with me he discussed getting a divorce irom 
h.s wife, and 1 was the one who dissuaded him from it, telling him 
how unfair it would be. That he had taken Irene from a work in 
■which she had been making a successful living, and that it would be 
a very different thing for her to go back to teaching with her two 
children on her hands and heart. He gave the divorce up, but he 
made his wife suffer many humiliations. She was a most unhappy 

woman. 

To return to Florence's complaint to mother of my taking a chair 
from the parlor. Mother, as was her custom on all occasions, with- 
out asking me for any explanation, commanded me, in a hard, angry 

manner, to pnt the chair back at once. 

I told her I would obey her when she spoke for herself, but I 
would not obey Florence through her. That I was nearly 4.5 years 
o !d and not a child to obey unreasonable commands. That if she 
would sometimes listen to me instead of always taking Florence's 
version of every word and act, acting upon her wilful lies without a 
single consideration for me, and letting Florence warp her mind with 
suspicions and ungrounded accusations, she, my mother, might be 
able to do some justice. 'J hen I would do what she asked, not oth 
erwise. Ai other went to Alllie with Flcrence's version of all the dis- 
agreeable evil things that had been happening Allic commanded me 
to put the chair back, saying scornfully that he would buy me one. 
Such is a man's justice — compelling me to submit to Florence 
throuhg mother. I reminded of his promise made to me in New 
York when he begged me to come home and guaranteed his protec- 
tion from Florence's evil ways. 

It only made him angry when I reminded him of Florence's threats 
and of her slapping my face, saying that "I would not wait for 
to do it another time."' Jle replied, "I'll turn you out of that front 
door." Oh, my God! Twice liad he brought me home, after hard 
struggling, 1 had established myself in an independent living. 
Twice had he wept and sobbed and wrung my heart by what I be- 
lieved to be a sincere, loving desire to have me with him, and, trust- 
ng in him, I had returned to my home to be told at last that he 
would turn me out of the door. 



8() ATLANTA S BLACK WEEK 

From that time. AlUe and niotliiT persecuted me with cveiy iudig- 
nity. Mother would take anytliiuij,- tliat she fuuiid out I wauted, 
from the pantry, even tlie desert, and iiide it in lier bedroom. Fruit 
and every delicacy was kejjt there. They had all made it .so disa- 
greeable at the table lor me that I had resorted to haviui;" my meals 
in my room, SJ^oing to the kitchen for them, except at sujiper, when 
I paid the servant by gifts to bring it to me. One morning I did 
breakfast in tlie dining-room, going there when all liad (inislied their 
breakfast and had left the room. While waiting I began to thro.v 
some of the crumbs out of the window. Florence came in and took 
her seat to sew. ^he three women, always after leiving the diuing- 
oom, sat in mother s room where the machine was or went to Flor- 
ence and Minnie's room. Why Florence returned to the dining-room 
on that especial morning, unless it was to m ike trouble, I do not 
know, tjhe knew that I had been persecuted nt^ si:li a cju litiun 
of minci that 1 would stand nothin4- from her. 

At first she sat a little one side of the window, b it S3eia;- m. ai 
apparently observing her, she little by little placed herself between 
me and the window. (1 had continued throwing t : ii oat.) 
Wishing to empty my saucer of some grounds, i tlirew them out, 
not caring whether tlu^y reached her or not. She said that several 
drops got on her dress Starting up with concentrated anger, she 
screamed out, "How dare you, madam, do such a thing to me '? How 
dare you?" , 

Seemingly I did not hear, but drank my chocolate. Becoming 
more incensed, she screamed again, "J low dare you, madam! I dake 
you to do such a thing again." 

"Oh," I said quietly, "if it comes to be a dare," and I emptied the 
contents of my cup over her head. Twice she gave me the dare. 

She went to mother and told her tale. For the first time she had 
something true to tell. What she had done to me did not matter. 
For two years she h:ul not spared me in little matters as well as 
greater. Countermanding my orders to the servants, running against 
me on the staircase and hall, taking my chair when 1 would leave it 



ATLANTA'S BLACK WEEK. " 87 

a minute, tlirowing food on my plate at table, intiuincing mother to 
have the laundry put where she wanted it, though 1 had all the 
trouble of it; disordering the rooms I had charge of (I clean up 
four rooms every .day); annoying me everywhere and in everything 
with devilish ingenuity, and who would believe it, seeing her so full 
of life and bright chat to all outside the house, and gaining com- 
plete control of mother by repeating all the gossip she heard, mag- 
nifying to her her induence in church societies, etc., etc., and 
mother never seems to recall the fact who it was that took all the 
drudgery from her, who made all her clothes, who nursed her during 
her sickness. The constant injustice has made me less demonstra- 
tive I i?riiow, more quiet, more bent on doing my duty than talking 
of it. Yet it does seem to me that she could not forget^how insolent 
Florence and Minnie have been to her. What have they not said to 
her in accusation and insolence '? 

I, too, have been guilty, but only after long years of cruel treat- 
ment. It may have been thoughtlessness, but the result was no less 
cruel. After many years of unxoprecixtsd drudgery, and finally, 
after driving me from home (Florence could have done nothing with- 
out her aid) and again combining with both Florence and Minnie for 
the same result, it seems natural to ask, why did you bear so much ? 
Why not make your own living '? 

Remember that I have twice essayed to do it — once in comparative 
youth and again ^tcr. It is true that I seemed to succeed pretty well 
for an untrained woman, but who will ever know how hard the 
stnJggle was, what despairing loneliness I endured, and often how 
evil was the life around me. Many a working woman will corroborate 
what I hint at, in their liearts. I who had rarely ever heard an oath, 
was surrounded by cursing men and women. 

I, who had been guarded so carefully, saw all the depths of vice, 
I was forty years old before I had ever bought a ticket for a railroad 
journey. Could you expect a helpless woman like that being plun- 
dered and imposed on? 1 hen think how long one has to wait for 
employment, even when young, all vacancies, even the lowliest, have 
hundreds, if not thousands, of applicants. 



88 Atlanta's black week. 

Think how many disajipointments there are and how long the 
waiting time is wliile the purse grows tliinner and the necessity for 
work greater and greater. I have been through it all, though 
my pride hid much of it and now at forty-five feeling in brain, 
»nd nnisclo the fearfully wearing result of the straggle who wishes 
me! Wliat can I do? I thought I might clothe myself by my em- 
broidery — but how fitful is the work. 

The niglit of tlie day in which Florence and I had an outbreak, 
Allie and (Jeorge came into my room and heaped every insult that 
cowardly bullies and brutal men could heap upon a woman. 

George springing from his seat, sliook his fist at me and clenched 
hiB hands, saying, "I'll drive you out of tiie house, madam! I'll 
drive you out of the house." 

"?fo," said I, "you will not. IJoth Allie and yourself siy that this 
is my house. He is the head of the family. You never asked me 
to return to my home. You tacitly helped Florence and Minnie to 
drive me from the house ten years ago. You broke your ])ro!uise to 
your dying fatlier to take care of us. Since my return you will 
probably remember that I have never made a bill in your name — you 
have nothing to do with me, your threats are trying to me." 

Then Allie said, "You make me entirely responsible for yourself?"' 
"For my return home I do," I replied; "are you now going to deny 
that you invited me home?" 

" No," lie said, " I not only asked you when you v/cre in New York, 
but ! have asked you a numl>er of times, and I say with George, if 
you don't behave yourself, I will drive you ouf of the house. I j^ill 
say further that you made a convenience of my wife's illness to get 
back into the home." 

Was there ever anytliihg moi-e dastnrdly? There was his letter 
begging me to tell him if I knew of anytliing to help Irene. Why, 
just at the close of her life, when, indeed, living was impossible to 
her, did he become so solicitous of her condition and so attentive to 
her wants -she who iiad been neglected and bullied by him for 
years? vN as it remor.se? There was his immediate reply to my prop- 
osition to come home and nurse her, l^emembering his grief during 




thh; .scene of the tkagedy. 



aailant's black week, 91 

liis visit to me in the summer and his earnest request for me to come 
home ledjmejto make thejprpposition; and there was his invitation 
to come home given not once, but a number of times — and yet I had 
made a convenienoe of his wife's illness to get back home. 

Later on he said with great wrath, " This is my house; what are 
you doing in my house ?" George and Allie stayed in my room three 
hours, insulting and abusing me the entire time. Florence had said 
o me before leaving the breakfast room, "Never mind, madam, I'll 
tmake you pay for this or you'll die," saying it in the most violent 
manner, and coming back to repeat it. 

I supposed she meant that she would kill me if the brothers, at her 
mother's instigation failed, to make me pay for it. Well, if she 
ould only have heard the brothers bullying and insulting me, she 
would have felt avenged. George even went to the length of threat- 
ening to get out a writ to eject me from the' house. 

Why did I not leave tlie home? Because I had resolved when I 
determined to accept Allie's promise of protection and came home 
that the women of the family should never, under any provocation, 
t ive me from my home again. It was as much my home as theirs 
and though Allie and George were none the less culpable in their bru- 
tality and cowardly bullying, I knew it was the women of the family 
who had driven them to it for I had frequently heard both Florence 
and Minnie urge mother to tell Allie and George of eveiy evil thing 
that had been said or done during the day. She would have forgot- 
ten' much of it, for she is an old worn m, if F. and M. had not not 
only reminded her, but so worded were mere nothings until they ap- 
peared evil things. For instance, when I told Allie of Florence's 
threat that I should die or pay for throwing the chocolate at her, he 
denied in the angriest way thatF. had made any such threat. "She," 
said he, repeated "that you would regret it always." "Here you, 
then," I replied, "affi'-m what she tells you so positively." 

Florence and I were the only ones in the room, and yet you take 
her word when you know she is not ti'uthful; whilst even mother 
says she has never known me to tell a lie. That is the way she (Flor- 
ence) always smoothed over all her acts and words. 



92 Atlanta's black week. 

Again, I went iuto mother's room one day and said: •' Motlier, how- 
can you, as a Clirisliau woman, who took commimion only last Sun- 
Say, treat me with the injustice and hitter wronj^s that you do." 
"I will not listen to yt>n," she replied, half rising from her chair. 
"Yes, you will," I suid, "You go to Allie and tell him all sorts of 
evil things', and then when I come to you to know why you treat me so 
you tell me you will not listen," and putting my hand uj)f)n her 
breast, I pushed her back into tho chair. 

It took only a light touch to do it. Three times she tried to leave 
the room, and three times did I push her back. The only thing that 
I regret in all my course was that I ought not to have touched her^ 
However, in repeating it to George and Allie. she said that I threw 
her across the table and [dragged her around the room; so George 
and Allie told me. 

One night after one of Allie' s bullyings, I carried some materia 
that I had l)Ought to make underwear for Allie into mothei-'s room, 
I threw it on the bed, and turning to Florence, who was sitting near. 
I said: 

As for you wh.o have caused all of this trouble, and have been 
acting more like a devil than the rest, I hope yoiu- master will soon 
have you and put you in the hottest hole in hell." Florence 
jumped up and ran over to mother. 

"Get behind me.f Florence, get behind me," said mother, spread- 
ing her dress. "Ihave always protected you and always will." 

But Florence not relishing the ridiculousness of the position, 
pushed mother roughly in a chair and said, "Oh! hush up." Yet 
nothing has ever|been said about that. Allie and Minnie were both 
present and saw it. For even I saw it and could not but be a little 
amused, although I was in fearful temper. 

I have no time for more, though I have not told one-tenth of alj 
the dirty things they said and did. But the most bitter thought of 
all is they liave sunk to this level, finding that silence on my part 
only exposed me to greater aggravations from them. I gave up and 
returned word for W'ord, evil for evil. • 

I have said that Minnie, until she was sixteen or seventeen, was 




JULIA FOECE IN JAIL. 



Atlanta's black week. 95 

more my child than my sister. It was in her defense mainly that I 
had gained Florence's enmity, yet when Florence and mother were 
trying and succeeding in driving me from my home, I said one day: 

" Minnie, how can you be so inactive when I have done so much 
for you." 

" Oh, Julia," she replied petulantly, "it's not my fuss; I'm not 
going to interfere." 

I was too proud to say more. About a year ago, after my return, 
Minnie and I wei-e going out. I saw that she was very much dis- 
turbed. 

"What is the matter ? " I asked. 

"Oh," she said, "I hate Florent-e so. I hate her." 

"Why," I said, "hasn't she improved? " 

"Improved," she exclaimed. "She grows worse and worse every 
year; and what is mor^, in having to fight her, I am getting just like 
her." 

She talked on and she wanted to escape Florence by going into 
some other room — into my own room with me, in fact — but I'emem- 
bering her ingratitude of ten years before, and being unused to 
having a constant companion in my room, and further knowing her 
selfishness, and that once in my room it would soon be no longer 
mine at all, I paid no attention to her hints. At that time Minnie com- 
plained quite frequently to mother about Florence, but seeing that 
mother turned a cold shoulder to her, as she had done to me, Minnie 
having more policy than I, changed her tactics and then began 
criticizing and abusing me to her, which was more profitable. 

Ungrateful, selfish, plausible, working and talking for self-profit 
and benefit, urging on any evil or suffering for others by which she 
might profit, and slipping or lying out of all evil consequences to 
herself, Minnie would give up the best friend she ever had for an 
hour's pleasure. 

Last year we heard very sad news from the doctor of Ward. He 
had become insame and had to be confined to an insane asylum. He 
was just put into a private asylum, George and Allie sharing the 
expense with Houston. Knowing this and wishing to help Allie as 



96 ATI anta's black wkkk. 

inuoli as possible, my only bill was $7. Minnie and Florence bought 
all tliey wanted as usual. I also undertook the care of four rooms. 
1 have attended them all more or less since my return, for the 
servants were always leaving the sewing for the four men and 
charged laundry, mending, etc. 

Last month 1 went to High's and made a bill of $J3.S5. 1 was 
sadly in need of underclothes, had not gotten a covering for llva 
years, and only one dress, for which my brother had paid. Florence 
and Minnie spend about $80 per year on their clothing, and as wo 
make our own dresses, can manage very well on that. 

Surely $3:5 was not much for a winter's supply, and yet A Hie was 
in an awful rago about it. It was not more than Minnie had spent) 
nor any more than Florence would have spent if she had not b«en 
sick. I said that to AUic. IJis reply was "that I sliould not talk of 
Florence's illness; tliat I had been the cause of it." 

I supposed mother or Minnie had told him that Florence's illness 
had been caused by an abcess. However, anything or nothing 
would do for an excuse for a man of his calibre to bully me about. 

To-day I received from High the following notice in typewriting: 
Miss .Julia Force, 44 Crew Street, City: 

Dear Miss— I beg to advise you that on and after this date, as per 
advice of Messrs. G. H. & A. W. Force, we shall be compelled to 
decline to charge any more goods to their account purchased by 

your.sclf. This we regret exceedingly, and trust that you will 
understand our ijosition in the matter. Yours truly, 

J. M. High & Co. 
It is enough — I have borne all I can bear — may God avenge — anp 
for every insult and mortitlcation which has been given me, heap a 

crushing weight of insult, mortification and suffering, moral and 
physical, upon the heads of those scoundrels, traitors and cowards, 
G. H. and A. W. Force. 

Oh! my father, help your child! 



Atlanta's black vvp:ek. 97 

Redwiue as His Friends Saw riim, , 



Much has been said about Lewis Redwiue; numy attemiJts have 
been made to describe him, to paint him in his true colors. Most 
of these attempts have failed. The best idea of how he was re- 
garded, by the people who knew him best was that given by a bril- 
liant woman writer in theConstitution, : 

It seems rather strange that society has hail to wait until Lent to experience the 
greatest and most thrilling sensation ever known to it in this city. 

I think I am right in terming the troubles of Lewis Redwine a social sensation; 
for never did a trouble of this kind aiid the high note of swelldom ring nearer 
to each other than in this instance— so near indeed, that the belles who knew the 
young bank cashier are all sorrow at what they consider his misfortune— so near, 
indeed, that the men have set a searching inquest ujjon their own souls and have 
brac«d themselves up, not with the courage of the vainglorious conceit, but with 
the \uiderstanding and pity that the knowledge of weakness must bring to broad 
and generous natures. 

A shadow of this kinfJ is more solemn and awe-ius|)iring than the presence of 
death; death holds no doubts and no dangers for human life, while witnessing in- 
timately the en or of a weak soul fills one with a dizzy, horrible sense of misery 
and insecurity. 

"If this man of sincerity, of kinilliness and unselfishness could do wrong," say 
those who love him, "how can we who were not half so good as he seems, feel Our 
selves secure ?" 



The city has never been in such a turmoil, such a conflict of opinions and replete 
with such a diversity of views as upon the subject of this man's misdoing. The 
morning of the sensation clusters of his men and women friends gathered together 
to discuss the matter, and the sorrow and shock of it all was shown by every look 
and word. The people who knew him best would not believe this tertible arraign 
ment against him. 

" If it had been anybody else but Lewis Redwine," they said—" but we just can't 
believe this of him." 

It is a very beautiful fact, too, and one disproving the usual idea of society life, 
that a number of his friends made up the sum of $30,000 for the pur^jose of clear- 
ing Mr. Redwine. Tli^se men had all been his friends, and the sharers of that 
prodigal generosity which it is said his, unsuspecte^l resources enabled him to 



98 Atlanta's black wekk. 

practice. rerliai)s, however, if :i few others of tliose suininer day friends who 
really had more money than the ones who did offer to assist him. had steiijied up 
and helped out, matters mif^ht liave been more easily settled 
other smart places, Lewis Redwine would not have found so many opportunities 
of throwinK away money. But the man that treats most is jienerally the one who 
can least afford it. Be it said however, as a rare C(jm]ilinient to i)lutocracy that 
several of the young men who put up the thirty thousand were men of wealth 
and possessed the generosity and charity which rarely attends it. 

1 am not championing the unfortunate man's cause but I do admire and respect 
the faith and the generosity which many of his frends have shown towards him, 
and I cannot admire those men of wealth who had been often dined and wined 
at his expense, yet who were silent and close of their cash when his downfall 
came. And some of those, too, who pitied him think that perhaps, if some of 
those niggardr'^ friends had been a little freer with their money at the club and 
Of course, the cry is ringing out about the enormities and vanities of the social 
fabric in connection with all this sensation; and, of course, too, a lot of women 
are brought into the story and the expenditures upon them exaggerated enor 
mously. Sermons may be drawn from it in which all dancing and bouquets will 
be roundly scored. Xow the truth was that 'Mr. Redwine was not a dancing man 
nor a dude, nor a "masher" who cared for women to any foolish or extravagant 
extent. He was lavish with all his friends, attended all social fuuetiors in. 
the best style and igenerally escorted some young woman; Imt he was more a 
man's man than a " fatal swell" where women were concerned. It was, it is told- 
at the club that he showed his greatest lavishness. 

The stories in relation to Mr. Kedwine's club life increases daily. Of course 
there must be an immense amount of exaggeration, for, although the fact that he 
did sipiander a good deal of money there is not denied, the overgrown stories 
would have obliged him to have spent the fortune of a Croesus. 

There is an interesting i)iece of club gossip going around concerning .Mr. Red 
wine, and which is probably altogether ticlion. 

It is said that after the opening night of the new theatftr, he with a party of 
friends were discussing the iilayof "Men and Women " when he suddenly left the 
room. One of his friends who followed him soon after, ujiou entering the dres.;- 
ing room, found him with a pistol placed to his head. 
" What ate you doing?" said he excitedly. 

The young man put the pistol down, smilling blandly with that innocent look 
■which characterized him. "Oh I was doing that to scare you," he replied, in the 
most reassuring voice. 

In contradiction of this story and to the one concerning the intense way he 
watched the play, is that of a well-ki.own society belle who says hv!; h e tal Ice 



ATLANTA S BLACK WEEK. 



99 



■"'•th her in the gayest iiianiier (hnina|the most tragical parts of "Men and 
Women." 

The general talk among those who knew him is in the [latter vein, and, indeed, 
not one of his friends have been able to find in anything that he ever said or sug- 
gested a hint of the tragedy in his life. 

That his disappearing was not premeditated seems proven liy the fact that he 
made engagements for the theater this week with several young lady friends, and 
the story goes that it was only last week that he implored a leading belle here to 
marry him. How very strange, how gxuesomely uncanny it all is any way! an 
how many odd and even ludricous ideas such a tragedy brings up in the minds »f 
people. 

I heard a perfectly honorable man declare that he could scarcely expect a young 
fellow to keep straight on the pitiful salary of $125 a month with all that money 
rolling aroimd him. 

jt is not, however, the business part of the affair that I intend to discuss for I 
am dealing merely with the current gossip and sentiment of the society of which 
this man was a member. If he has been giiiltv of all the wrong doing laid at his 
door, he deserves that punishment which should lie the reward of all who have 
sinned against their fellow men. 

Still, the fact that there are many who believe him partly, if not wholly, inno- 
cent must have some weight. The personal influence that he exerted over those 
who knew him was certainly remarkable, I don't think any other man I know 
could have had so miich genuine kindliness and sympathy expressed for^him 
lUider such cii'cumstances. Everybody likes him. He has a gentle sort of mag" 
netism tliat makes all women his friends and a manly strength and generosity 
that made men swear by ,him. He was the most loyal person in the world to the 
people he liked and the most charitable to the faults of others ; and the latter 
characteristic is a very rare one in an innately bad nature. Indeed, that he had a 
bad nature, no one who knew him is willing to admit. 

For my part, I can see as I write, his bland, honest-appearing face with candid 
gray eyes and smiling mouth with its upcurling^ corner regarding me from theater 
boxes, bowing from a carriage or beaming beniflcently amid the time honored 
reception decorations. 

'If he be a villain, what a beautiful, wonderful villain this man would make for 
a stoiy— a villiar. whose personality in its bland innocence would i)ut to shame 
those palpable, dark-browed wretches of thrilling drama and romance. And, on 
the other hand, if he is not guilty, what a splendid, thrilling heroic story it would 
make, his self-immolation on the altar of other men's honor, his faith to his friends 
anil so on. 

.And what part in the tragedy will he be given, after all,";I wonder? 

Well, no matter what it is and how he has sinned, God pity him ! 

Tender any circumstances the torture of his soul now must be horrible beyond 
all imagining. The disgrace before the world, the curious crowd about lum, the 
manacles on his wrists. Can any one who knows Lewis Redwine think of all this 
without aii'^-ui^h nml sympathy? 



Lcrf^G. 



[00 atj.anta's black week. 

The Living and Dead, 



The story has been told. The storm lias subsided. Atlanta is the 
same (juiet/ peaceful and Christian cit^' that she was before the dark 
days that formed the e:;tcitiug period of her eyidemic of crime, and 
with characteristic generosity- she spreads tlie mantle of charity over 
all that has gone before. The curtain has already fallen on the 
terrible scenes of the tale of tragedies, and may its friendly folds for- 
ever obscure and protect from public i^arade the deeds and misdeeds 
of those who sinned and were sinned against in them. 

Of the living characters who figure prominently in the foregoing- 
pages, there is little to say. Lewis Redwine, the defaulting cashier 
of the Gate City National Bank, and upon whom the sole responsi 
bility for its collapse is fixed, now languishes in a grim and gruesome 
cell behind the bars of the Fulton County Jail; in default of $25,000 
bond awaiting trial in the United States Court for embezzlement 
from a national bank. The amount of his shortage, first fixed at 
$70,000, has, it is now alleged, been ascertained to read $95,000 
A strange and unaccountable feature of the story comes inhcre,lied- 
wineT claims most emphaticaly that he Itnows nothing about but 
$23,000 of tlic missing money; that this he loaned to friends and not 
one dollar of it Avent to his personal and private benefit. He re- 
fuses to divulge the names of his friends to whom he loaned themiss- 
ing money, declaring that it can avail nothing now, as if tliey wero 
dead or beyond the power of giving satisfaction. If this be stj, then 
Kedwine, the dupe and tool of a gildedari-stocracy whom he tried to 
ape and rank with is to be pitied ingoing to the penitentiary if sucli 
be his fate, to sulfer a felon's punishment and bear the stigma of the 
hief to protect the names of his high toned but treacherous friends. 
Althougli his ideas of I'liendship may be exaggerated, he is a hero wor 
thy of treatment by a master's pen.j The amount of Eedwine's short 
age, considering the stiitements of the bank examiners and himself 
together, isenslirondediiia veil of mystery, and viewing siinjdy from 



Atlanta's black week. 101 

the public's standpoint, Eedwine is either^ a badly abnsed agenc- 
throiigli which others have served, or else he is a consummate scoun 
drel. 

The fate of the Gate City Bank which is now in charge of theUnited 
States g(jvernment, and for the suspension of which, Redwine is al- 
leged to be responsible, is uncertain. It may be reopened and the 
suspension may be pei'manent. 

Tom Cobb Jackson, whose tragic suicide followed so closely the 
defalcation of Redwine and the bank suspension, reposes in death's 
sleep, in the beautiful city of the dead in Athens, surrounded by the 
mounds and monuments that mark the last resting place of his dis 
tinguished ancestorSjj his young bride weeps tears of anguish and love 
and the home of his father's family of which he was the pride and 
joy, is disconsolate and sad. A score of rumors as to the cause of his 
suicide have been freeiy repeated, some assigning financial trouble 
and some domestic trouble, but they seemed to be without founda 
tion. One story on the financial line which was printed in a Chatta- 
nooga paper places his debts at over a hundred thousand dollars. 

Miss Julia Foi-ce who took the life of her two sisters is also con- 
fined in the Fulton Countjr jail awaiting transfer to the insane asy- 
lum. She was tried and adjudged insane by Ordinary Calhoun soon 
after the commission of the crime. She allows no one to see her in 
her cell and is said th be lilerally weeping her life away, while her 
victims sleep side by side iu Oakland Cemetery. The Force home 
only a few days ago made bright, cheerful and enjoyable by the three 
daughters and sisters, is now a sad, sad scene of sorrow. Within a 
day, two bright lights that contributed so much to the comfort and 
happiness were foi-ever dimmed in death, and another hidden for all 
time to come behind prison bars. 

Umberto Piantini, one of the victims of the Metropolitan Hotel 
murder, has forever passed from the earth. Selita Muegge still 
lives, but is in a pitiable plight for one so young and beautiful. 
The young wife, fatlier and mother are heart-broken, and disgrace 
will ever shadow that household, a fitting shroud of mourning for 
the sins of its inmates. 



102 Atlanta's blaci-: week. 

Rapliaol, the unfortunate Kimball House suicide, was taken to his 
home in Boston for burial, and the unfortunate love-sick drummer, 
(ijawly, rests beneath the sod of Koswell, his native town. 

And thus the story of Atlanta's week of hlood and sin ends. 

I will leave my readers to draw their own moral conclusions. It 
was God's visitation, and may have been either his blessing or his 
curse. 'V\ ith the avalanche of destruction, some of the most con- 
spicious figures were removed from society, the churcli, the clubs 
and financial circles; and considering the selections of his subjects, 
who can say but the few were taken that the many might take 
warning ? W as it not all a terrible warning ? There has never been 
a government, municipality or society in Iflic history of the world 
but at scmie period of its existence, it had to have a check rein 
thrown over it to keep it from rushing madly into eternal destruc- 
tion. \V^as Atlanta society bordering on a precipice 1^ This is a 
question that time alone can answer. Suffice it to say the warning 
has been given. 



And now the "Why" of it all. 

Tlie story that is here told was telegraphed l»r.)ad cast tlirougliout 
the country, and from all sections came a clamoring for a solution 
of the problem, an explanatiau of it all, and that great mystery wns 
that surrounding the central act of the drama; v/hy did Jai-kson 
kill himself? 

The crime wave theory is all riglil eut>ugli and 1 believe iu it 
within certain bounds. F^- instance the suicide of young Crowley, 
the suicide of Farmer Jolely, at Clarkston, the attempt of the two 
young women named Williams — one ofjwhom swallowed Jpowdered 
glass while the other tried morpliiue— these perhaps never would 
have thought of self-destruction except from the fact that it "was in 
aither," or except from the example of Jackson which 1 take it 

cans practically the same thing in a time like this, and the terri- 



Atlanta's black week. 108 

l)le crime which Julia Force perpetuated might have been delayed, 
if- perhaps averted, but for the storm that raged, certain it is'^ that 
there was some cannection, in this way: Cobb Jackson has put a 
bullet through his temple and produced instant death ; Julia Force 
had eagerlp read the newspaper accounts of that tragedy, then with 
coolness and deliberation she put a bullet into the temple of each 
of her sisters. Is she insane? A jury in ^he ordinary's court has 
said so, men who read her statement said that if those sisters 
treated her as she says they did, she was not much to bl^rae, of 
course that is wrong. It is easy to see, however, how a super- 
sensitive nature like her' s could by degrees be wrought up to a 
pitch where she believed all this. Her mind was unbalanced un- 
doubtedly. The lesson it teaches is a terrible one to parents — a 
lesson of how a sensitive child whose nature has been warped can 
l)ecoma a fiend. 
' And now the connection between Jackson and Piedwine. 

The warmest of friends, the closest of of intimates, men of the 
same set who were bound by all sorts of close ties — the suicide of 
one follows immediately upon the defalcation and disgi'ace of the 
other. It looked like the two chapters of a story — and it was. 

Thousands of rumors filled tha air. They were rumors based on 
the theory that Cobb was in some way connected with Redwine's 
troubles, and as nobody knew anything definite the rumors covered 
the whole gaunt of wiokedness and misfortune. Some had no possi- 
ble groundwork and are not proper to repeat here. But that Jack- 
son was a debtor to the bank has been officially announced by the 
bank's attorneys, but that he was debtor to Redwine to a very 
much greater extent is generally acknowledged. Redwine won't 
sajf how much and.the papers, if there were any are not to be found. 
It is known, however that when Jackson and some of his young- 
friends conceived the brilliant idea of buying up the Atlanta and 
Blorida road intending to unload on some big system, the money 
they worked on, or most of it came from Redwine. And it is said 
that Redwine had time and again li.lped Jackson out of a financial 



104 ATLANTA ,S BLACK WEEK 

hole, once when he was on his biiilal Umr and iiatl to draw on At- 
lanta lor money. Jackson had no more idea of money matters 
tliau a ehikl. He donbtless had visions of phms by whicli he wouUl 
make it all back and'no one ever'qnestioned his honestly; lint -the 
best ylans sometimes misc;u-ry and his were probably of the mis- 
carrying class. 

lint $95,000. is missinij. Could heliave gotten it all/ 
'j It saenis beyond the realms of possibility. 

Then, were otheis of the same clique in the same lioat? 

» 
That story Horace Owens told about a meeting of eleven of Ked- 

wines friends before the defalcation when the situation was dis- 
cussed and plans were laid to hide Redwine in the country twenty 

miles away was that mere talk or was there something in it? 

True such a meeting could not have Iteenheld on the Sunday before 
the crisis came, or if it was, Cobb .Jackson was"nt there. But 
couldn't such a meeting have been held some other day, or with- 
out Jackson? 

It could but, was it? And if so, who was there? 

Now that he is dead, the public will i)robably believe that Cobb 
.lackson was deepest interested of all who were connected with 
Redwine. I don't believe it. I believe if the truth ever comes out, 
it will be found that both Cobb .Jackson and licdwinc w-re in a very 
great measure the dupes of designing men. I think JCould lay my 
hand on one of the men — but I am giving no names right now. 

And I think too, that if certain people of whom he had a right to 
expect it had helped Cobb Jackson, there would liave been no "Black 
week" of Atlanta. And T don't niean any of liis immediate relat- 
ives, either. 




'M 



